The Folly of Men
by Celebdil-Galad and Tinlaure
Summary: Vengeful marauders snare Legolas to be an underworld prizefighter in their cryptic domain of darkness. Aragorn discovers the only way to liberate Legolas is to be captured himself, but both must combat an ancient prejudice that could mean their demise....
1. Justice

**Title:** _The Folly of Men_

**Summary:** _Vengeful marauders snare Legolas to be an underworld prizefighter in their cryptic domain of darkness. Aragorn finds out the only way to liberate the prince is to get captured himself but they both must combat an ancient prejudice that could mean their demise._

**Authors: **_Celebdil-Galad and Tinlaure_

**Disclaimer: **We do not own anything from the movie or book trilogy of _Lord of The Rings. _We also own nothing from Middle Earth. These things all belong to New Line Cinema and J.R.R. Tolkien. We also are not doing this for money, we are doing it because we have nothing better to do and that's as much a reason as you need! WE ARE NOT EXPERTS SO LETS MAKE THAT ABUNDENTLY CLEAR RIGHT NOW THAT WE DON'T CLAIM TO BE WHAT WE ARE NOT!

**A/N: **The characters **Rothinzil** and **Ancú **are ours and you can use them, but only if you contact us specifying how they are going to be used and why you need them. For instance, they are straight and definitely prefer the females as do any other OC males that you may find and _females prefer the guys_. If you kidnap them, trust us, we will find out and we will take action!

Hmmm...let us think...this tale starts with the court marshal of Anc, the Captain of the Guard. It is not long. We will try and back track, but we can't afford to retell the whole thing, so you will have to read the story prior, starting from roughly chapter ten and up. This should tell you that there are heavy spoilers for our previous story, "All That's Left of Yesterday." If you have not ready that fiction of ours it is not entirely necessary, but strongly advised.

We are not experts in the Elven tongue (as much as we try). Thanks to Nili we had the name of our community corrected. For that we are thrilled. If you see any mistakes...and it is highly probable that you will...do not be afraid to let us know. It will help and we really would like to get better at this whole writing thing.

Angst is inevitable. So don't be surprised to read some pretty bleak parts.

**This story starts off slow, but it will pick up speed quickly. We just ask that you bear with us.**

_**CHAPTER ONE**_

_Justice _

The Elves of Rivendell filed quietly and serenely into the council chambers. They were all too serene and quiet, thought the dark-haired Elf sharply. He drew in a heavy sigh and looked about himself as he stood before a podium upon a dais where Elrond, Lord of Rivendell had taken up residence.

Elrond seemed very grave and Ancú felt more than nervous. To say he was on the verge of having wobbling knees would not be an exaggeration by any means. But the Captain of the Guard managed to maintain a worthy composure and tried feebly to push all dark thoughts out of his mind and place everything realistically in focus.

However it was not really working entirely and he set his eyes to Elrond. He trusted his lord with his life, so why did he fear what was about to transpire?

Though he knew he deserved to be banished and yet he found it hard to believe that Elrond would do such a thing unless he had actually murdered someone and cruelly at that! But still, the thought of being banished and essentially dead for eternity and cut off from all he knew was enough to provoke more than a slight bit of anxiety.

They had to delay the trial of Ancú because of inflicted wounds. It was now a week away from the Winter Solstice or _Yenearsira._

Elrond spoke calmly, "all rise." Erestor and Glorfindel stood on either side of him and Elladan stood by his brother, who was still a bit too weak to stand for long periods of time, but stood for the moment. He was allowed, along with Legolas and Ancú to be seated if the need arouse because of injuries sustained from Morceleb and his band of vengeful Elves.

Rothinzil of Mirkwood stood by his prince quietly, wondering what was going to happen. His clear, bright eyes shifted uneasily as he glanced about the fair room they were in. Legolas, gently and reassuringly touched the younger Elf's arm which he noticed was trembling slightly. The quaver unnerved the prince, but he could not deal with it now and everything was going to be alright, was it not? Of course, they were in Imladris and that meant well being and joy for those concerned. Though in all reality past events had not been so pleasant and that was the very reason for this ridiculous hearing.

Elrond spoke once more at Ancú, " Ancú son of Aglarcú, do you know and understand the charge brought against you?"

Ancú stared back at Elrond with calm, hazel eyes that showed no emotion. He did not want his

own eyes to betray his inner feelings. "I do Lord Elrond, but I do not think it would do harm to have it read over one more time."

Elrond nodded and said, "I agree. Erestor..." He gestured to the counselor.

Erestor nodded and said, " Ancú, son of Aglarcú, you stand charged with preventing Elf-lord's from guiding their people in war time and disobedience under a sworn oath taken years ago when you first chose to commit yourself to the service of Rivendell and its lords." This was stated rather flatly and everyone present could tell Erestor was not really concerned beyond getting this over with.

Ancú nodded and said, "thank you, Lord Erestor."

Erestor nodded back slowly. "You are welcome Lord Elrond."

Elrond frowned and inquired wearily, " Ancú, did you or did you not lock myself, Lord Glorfindel and Lord Erestor along with the Lords Elladan and Elrohir in the same room during wartime?"

Ancú said quietly, but serenely, "yes my lords."

Glorfindel asked quietly, "what was your purpose?" He seemed far off and as though he had other things on his mind and this was a side objective he really thought was wholly unnecessary and perfectly useless.

"I was thinking of their safety, as I am supposed to. If the Dark Elves attacked and would be to capture them, it could put their lives and the fate of the refuge of Imladris at great risk and I could not allow it," answered Ancú promptly. It was the truth and it was more than obvious he was hiding nothing, no hate or malice.

Erestor asked softly, "so you put aside your own safety to prevent harm from coming to your lords?" His dark eyes flickered slightly as he glanced from Lord Elrond to the darker haired captain of Rivendell.

Ancú said proudly and in a strong voice that was tranquil and withstanding all at once, "You can say that, yes."

Elrond sighed and said, "did you forget the penalty for this crime?" He raised his brows and looked at the papers before him somewhat skeptically.

The accused Elf frowned and lowered his head, "No, my lord. It is banishment. If we are not happy with the ruling of the land we are in when the ruler has done no wrong to the people who inhabit it and we are only stirring up trouble we do not deserve to live there. However, I would have you keep in mind that I did it to protect my lords, not to try and bring down their authority and I have ever been at their service."

Elrond said, "I will bear that in mind. Now I call Rothinzil of Mirkwood forward for questioning." Rothinzil looked at Ancú sadly and came forward slowly, it felt as though his feet had weights on them with heavy manacles. Perhaps it was his guilt, but he would get rid of that. "Rothinzil do you swear by the Valar and all that is good in Middle Earth to tell the truth and nothing less, so help you Elbereth?"

Roth managed to croak out, "I do my lord." His eyes met Elrond's and he looked away uneasily. These were not his people, though he be very distantly related and as he watched all the other Elves about his eyes grew a bit wider as his slight doubt began to gnaw at him. Pushing it aside, he turned to more important things at hand.

"Rothinzil, you were with Ancú at the time, were you not?" asked the Lord of Rivendell unequivocally.

"I was," he answered truthfully.

"Did he not forcefully shove Lord Glorfindel into the room that Elladan and Elrohir were in along with myself and Lord Erestor?" asked Elrond quickly. He wished to get this over with.He deemed it unecessary and a complete waste of his time that could be spent lecturing his sons for the one-hundreth time about the danger they and their foolish notions put everyone into and how they had to learn to think a bit more pragmatically.

"Yes, but may I say my lords, that I aided him so whatever fate you send him to, I would be more than happy to accompany him to it."

A murmur rose in the gathering of Elves. They had not known this. Also they applauded this klutzy wood-Elf's honestly and courage.The young dark-haired archer did not seem fearful, but calm and accepting.

"Very well Rothinzil. We will remember your request," said Elrond as he looked at the ground for a moment, wondering where to go from here.

Ancú shot Roth an annoyed look and asked silently with his lips, "why did you do that?" He had not wanted his best friend to be dragged into this mess and certainly did not want trouble to rise between Thranduil's realm and Elrond's. But of course, that meant he did not know the Elf-lord's half as well as he assumed he did.

Rothinzil just looked away and sighed. He looked at Legolas and saw his prince was smiling. He has done no wrong in Legolas' eyes. That was a comforting thought. The last thing he wished was to be estranged from two worlds. Legolas' eyes sported a dull dingy blue that showed he found this all very boring and would much rather be doing anything else, even fighting orcs the size of trolls.And it was most likely that if he would have been able to escape, unnoticed, he would have found some and been in dire need of stitches once more.

Elrond then said, "we will take a brief recess to pass judgement and when we return we will sentence the prisoner."

As Elrond, Erestor and Glorfindel filed out, Elladan went over to Ancú 's side and said seriously as he perused over all the facts and the proceedings in his head, "I know father will not give you anything unjust. He most certainly shall not banish you!" Ancú shrugged and said nothing. Elrohir looked at his elder brother and Elladan said, "we will go with you if you are banished."

Ancú smiled at the thought of their loyalty, but it also made him feel ill, and said, "my friends, no you won't. I won't allow it!"

Elladan and Elrohir laughed merrily and said, "of course you will!" There eyes were shimmering with jest, and yet he had known them long enough to know that they were in fact, not joking around and would do exactly what they had stated regardless of the consequences.

Legolas looked at Roth and said, "you did what was right. No wrong was in it Rothinzil and I will be with you, whatever happens." As Rothinzil looked at Legolas he thought it looked like the prince had awakened from a nap long awaited. He was more than obviously bored with the whole affair and would soon have it over and done with as soon as possible as did everybody else in the fair refuge of Rivendell.

Aragorn looked at him and said, "I will be with you both." _If and when I can sneak away from Ada, his guards and all the rest of Rivendell. _Ah, the power of friendship. It could heal and destroy everyone and everything.

About Five minutes had passed and the Elf-lords filed back in again.They seemed just as serene as ever, so their facades were no judge and that was more than annoying.

They all took their places and Elrond announced, "court is now back in session, if you will go to your places and remain standing we will sentence the prisoner and his companion then draw this trial to a close."

Ancú looked up unflinchingly at Elrond. His hazel eyes showed no fear, they spoke of no regret either. He was not afraid anymore and what he did he felt was not worthy of shame. He had a suspicion Lord Elrond did not think so either and was only putting this on for show. As a matter of fact, from the careless and apathetic look on every Elf present, it was more than obvious.

Elrond looked at the Captain of the Guard and said, " Ancú, son of Aglarcú, we find you guilty of preventing the Elf-lords from guiding their people during wartime. For this crime the proper punishment is banishment." Ancú felt a lump in his throat and he felt tears in the back of his eyes even though he knew it would most likely not happen the thought made him shiver. Elrond continued, "however, we find that since it was done for the well being of Rivendell that you shall be sentenced to probation and you will still hold your position as Captain of The Guard of Rivendell. If ever you should do this again you shall be banished."

Ancú breathed deeply and felt relief flood his senses. "Thank you for your mercy my lords," he said quietly and with much gratitude lacing his voice.

As they all filed out Roth ran up to Ancú and said in a breath, "**that **was close!" Obviously he did not know the Lord of Rivendell half as well as he supposed.

Ancú smiled tiredly and said, "I don't know. Somehow I doubt that Lord Elrond would banish anyone unless they had murdered someone." He shrugged slightly as though to brush the unpleasant thought off, "I guess I should consider myself lucky anyhow."

Elladan and Elrohir exchanged glances and said, "oh yes! You came really close to receiving death!" they teased.

Ancú shot them a venomous look that plainly stated in no uncertain terms that he found their humor completely off color and said, "I can just imagine it! Will you two please be quiet!" He was not in the mood to be bantered with and if they kept it up he feared he would do something that would garner death to him.

Elladan stopped and grabbed Ancú carefully by his shoulders, still cautious of his wound and he whispered, "you weren't really scared, were you?" Ancú raised a brow and gave a lop sided smile. Elladan persisted in a dead serious tone, "were you?" He hoped his best friend that he had known forever had not been frightened.

Ancú inclined his head slightly, "not really. I trust Lord Elrond. I knew that whatever I received would not be cruel."

Legolas smiled as he came up along side his friend Roth, "yes, that does make a difference, doesn't it?" Aragorn walked behind the prince, watching how his long braid that hung from the crown of his head swung from side to side in the back when he walked. He could not help but think of a little joke to ease things up a wee bit.

Roth looked back and saw what Aragorn was doing and then gave a mischievous smile. This was going to be interesting.

Legolas suddenly went stock-still. Something was tickling his hair. The only thing was, it felt like something that was big and ugly, with eight legs. Roth looked at his prince and said, "don't look now Legolas, but there is huge spider that just dropped from the tree and into your hair and is making the most horrid nest I ever saw in my life!" Legolas felt his eyes growing wide and he reached his hand back in his hair to try and brush off the beastly thing.

No, he was not afraid, but who wants a beastly spider in their hair?

He knew he should not have been surprised when he felt a hand in his hair. Grabbing it, he twisted around to look into the sheepish face of Aragorn.

Rothinzil snorted as he tried to suppress a chuckle. Legolas turned on him and said, "I believe somewhere there is a rule against lying to the prince." Legolas' facade had a smile on it and Roth burst into laughter that was uncontolable. Legolas just rolled his eyes and said, "you are so lucky I am not in the mood to commit a murder!" Then he muttered under his breath, "annoying klutz of an Elf and stupid ranger!...It isn't that funny!" he finished with a near shout.

Roth laughed all the more and said between gulps of air, "I am so grateful of your mercy Prince Legolas! I am forever in your debt!"

Legolas rolled his eyes once more and elbowed his friend in the ribs none too gently. Roth gasped a minute and then shot the prince a glare as he put a hand over his ribs. If there was bruise in the morning, he decided gloomily, he would find a horrible thing to get the prince back with later. Yes, something mean and most likely very childish would be best, he thought darkly as he glared daggers at his blonde liege. Legolas raised a blonde brow into a an arch and said in a matter of fact voice, "serves you right!" Roth just looked away and to the floor. When he lifted his face again it had a grin on it and twinkle in his eyes. Legolas growled, "you are impossible!"

Ancú said quickly, "I think I am going to be alone for a while. I am just feeling a little tired, my wound and all." Everyone looked at him and he said softly, "I will be fine. But you can't heal from a torn lung just like that, unless you are the twins, who seem to recover from everything remarkably well and just in time to nearly get themselves mauled again!"

Elrond came up behind Ancú from where he had been talking with Erestor and set his hands on the younger Elf's shoulders, "no you can't. I think another week of rest and you can return to duty." Elrond then looked at Prince Legolas and Rothinzil, "when are you two going to depart for Mirkwood?"

Legolas looked a bit uneasy and said slowly, "I...I think within the hour would suit us best, as I know my father would like us home for the celebration." Rothinzil nodded. This was true and they had not been home without being in bandages and limping for so long, he ached for it.

Aragorn looked at his father and then to Legolas, "I would like to go with him half way and then turn back for home." Legolas looked at the human with a quick smile. The ranger did not like staying in one place too long it seemed. Come to think of it, Legolas didn't really right now either, however, he did yearn for his home. He hadn't seen his father in months and even though he wasn't a child, he and his father were still remarkably close.

Elrond sighed as he thought over the juvenile human's question, "I don't know Estel. You would have to return alone and you only recovered a little while ago..." he had a feeling this was an uphill battle he was fighting.

Elladan and Elrohir stepped up, "we will go with him, how much trouble can all of us get into together?" asked Elrohir with a smile.

Elladan stomped on Elrohir's booted foot and said in a harsh whisper, "you aren't helping!" Elrohir just shot a look of intense eyes at his brother and stood on the unmarred foot tensely. He would have to get Elladan for that.

Elrond drew in a deep breath, "I still don't know..."

Elladan suddenly had an idea, though he was certain he would regret it later. "We can take Glorfindel with us! Then if something happened he could help us." Elrohir gave him a 'what do you think you are doing?' look and Elladan winked back at him. Elrohir then smiled back and put his finger on the side of his nose. Elladan nodded back slowly with the most mischievous as well as the most scheming expression seen on his fair features in quite a while . The scary part was for anyone they would be with, Elrohir had the same look that matched so well, you could scare tell the pair apart.

Elrond smiled and shook his head. In an almost weary tone he called for the Gondolin Elf, who was busy arguing with Erestor over whether or not the snows were going to come early this year.

Glorfindel came over and when he saw Elladan, Elrohir, Estel, the prince and Rothinzil he knew what was going on.It was just an instinctual response he had gathered over the years. "No! No! No! No!" he said over and over. "I have no desire to go and chase orcs in the start of winter when I could be calmly sitting in a chair by the fireplace in my study reading a relaxing book!"

"Please Lord Glorfindel?" begged Aragorn with a perfect imitation of a puppy face reflecting at the golden-haired Elf. Elladan and Elrohir looked at their brother and with smiles on their faces began doing the same thing. The identical puppy faces were more than hilarious, but no one laughed, save Elrond, who chuckled tersely. It turned out that Elrohir was the better puppy face maker though and that kind of figured.

Glorfindel narrowed his eyes and said firmly, "no." The looks continued and Elrond watched, his mouth curving with amusement. "No!" he restated in a growl. He began to wonder if this was how he had lost his sanity in the first place. He could feel himself about to say yes. But why? He could stay warm, dry, safe and perfectly happy in Rivendell, in his study. He knew the snows were coming soon, chances are he would be wet and miserable before they made it back from where ever they were planning on dragging him to. "Where are we going?" he asked with a sigh of surrender. Why did he do things like this?

Elladan smiled, "no where really, just halfway to Mirkwood, you know, over the mountains, to the River Anduin and then back over?" he answered with a contagious grin.

Glorfindel began to whine, "that has to be more than halfway! Can't we just stay right here and be _warm, _and _dry. _What do you five have against being _safe_? Do you try to make my life miserable or is that just a side benefit?" he growled.

Aragorn laughed, "you had better get packed Glorfindel, we leave within the hour!" The man took off towards his room. Legolas followed him, having already packed his own things since he had planned this near a week ago. Actually he had been planning it since he heard he would be well near to this date. Rothinzil had also packed prior to that morning and so he followed after his prince.

Glorfindel frowned, "within the hour! Why do I have a problem with that?"

He watched with a dark glare as everyone began to go and get their stuff together. Elrond chuckled and said, "I am sorry Lord Glorfindel, but you know as well as I do that without you they are most likely to go all the way to Mirkwood, call it an "accident" and then manage to get held up there from the snows."

Glorfindel just nodded and said, "I know. If that happened I would pity Thranduil. I already pity myself." He frowned and then grinned as he looked at the beautifully tiled floor etched with floral designs.

Elrond gave a small laugh and said, "it isn't that bad..."

Glorfindel snorted, "easy for you to say, you are rid of them for a week while I have endure weather that is anything but pleasant and baby sit!"

Elrond sighed and said, "I know you are never going to forgive me for this..." He shook his head.

Glorfindel echoed with a glare that looked nearly comical, "_never_."

Elrond looked into his friend's blue eyes and said, "you have about fifteen minutes to pack."

"Ai!" exclaimed Glorfindel with a snort. "Those little incompetent, bothersome, maddening..." he went off on a list of names which he thought described the twins, Rothinzil, Estel and Prince Legolas fairly well. Elrond watched as the golden-haired Elf stormed back to his rooms to pack everything he would need. He smiled as he knew that when Glorfindel returned he would hear nothing but how much the Gondolin Elf thought Lembas bread was tasteless and that he was certain that it was made that way by the bakers just to get on his nerves. The Lord of Rivendell was also more than assured Glorfindel would come back and complain that his bedroll was too hard and his muscles ached.

Erestor came up by Elrond and said smugly and with a smile pulling at his lips, "I can't wait to see Glorfindel's face when he comes back hauling Elladan, Elrohir and Estel by their ears!"

Elrond sighed and said, "that is about what it is going to take to get them home again, isn't it?" Erestor just nodded calmly and looked at his friend with a half smile that stated he thought every thing to be quite humorous.

"Too bad Glorfindel only has two hands, he will have to knock one of them out," said Erestor with a laugh. To him, this was wonderful and he had not felt happier since...a long time.

Elrond narrowed his brow and said, "I wonder which one?" It could be any of them.

Erestor grinned and said, "the first one to complain about having to turn back, knowing Glorfindel's mood."

They both looked at each other and Elrond chuckled dryly, "Estel for certain." Erestor nodded in agreement with his friend.

Legolas sat on the edge of Aragorn's bed and Rothinzil leaned up against the wall. Aragorn had his pack sitting by Legolas and was in the process of hastily cramming a spare tunic into it. Legolas sighed and said, "have you ever heard of _folding_ your clothes human?" He said this in a tone that let the man know that he was teasing only.

Aragorn smiled and said, "you think you can do better? We are leaving soon."

Legolas just snorted and said, "we are leaving when I feel like it. I just told Elrond that so Glorfindel would have a fit and be forced to cram everything he owns into his pack." Aragorn laughed.

"No, really," he said with a smile. The young man looked up at the comical looking Elf that was grinning from one pointed ear to the other.

"Really. Although, I will admit that I would like to make it home in time for the _Yenearsira Festival,_"confessed the prince with some remorse. He shook his head and said, "if I don't get back I will hear of nothing else for the next ten to fifteen years!"

Aragorn snorted and said sarcastically, "who knows? Maybe it will blow off!"

Legolas straightened up and said in a deep and 'royal' voice, "now Strider, this is a serious matter!" He gave a dignified snort that sounded totally fake. Then he laughed to himself and said under his breath, "though it is not as light as we could wish either."

Aragorn was looked at his friend for a moment and then at Roth, "why are you so quiet? Thinking of locking someone else in a room?" he asked with a grin. There was no response. Aragorn looked at Legolas and the prince frowned then a smile crept back across his face.

"Roth?" No answer. Legolas tried again. "Roth I just received word that father has relieved you of your command and you are going to have to be put on kitchen duty!"

Roth didn't even look at him. All he said was; "that's a good idea. Tell me how it turns out." His voice was quiet and Legolas rolled his blue eyes. Although this was funny and he was indeed, very amused, he was going to have to do something about it.

"I found a warg pup and it attacked Glorfindel and demolished his study," he eyed the raven-haired Wood Elf incredulously.

Roth just smiled quietly and said in a low voice that sort of drifted along, "Legolas that isn't funny, someone could have gotten hurt."

Legolas scowled and yelled, "Rothinzil!"

Rothinzil glared at his blonde prince and said with anger edging his voice, "what!" He obviously was clueless, and embarrassingly so. His glare deepened as Legolas smiled and began to chuckle.

The Prince of Mirkwood snorted, "were you even listening?"

Roth looked more than puzzled and Aragorn said, "Legolas found a warg pup." He watched as Roth's entire demeanor changed.

"He did?" asked Rothinzil excitedly. "Do you still have it? Can I keep it?" he begged. He narrowed his eyes and then said in a serious and low voice, "you didn't kill it, did you?" His eyes went from Aragorn to Legolas and back to the man who was trying not to laugh. Roth was normal as far as mental stability went unless he found a helpless, orphaned baby animal, then he had to keep it or drive everyone insane until it was permitted. Legolas thought if it weren't for the fact Roth needed more energy, he would be a vegetarian. But then of course, the prince had to admit, if Roth had less energy he might actually act sane all the time and not just when it counted.

Legolas looked at Aragorn with his eyes hardly able to be seen under his scrunched brows that were a clear sign of his aggravation and mouthed, 'thanks.' He then looked at Roth and said, "well now that I have your attention..."

Roth looked wounded, like a little cub that had thought it had found a home and it turned out it was no more wanted than a plague. "So there's no warg pup?"

"No Roth, now listen..." began the prince quickly but it was wasted. He was going to gag that young miserable Elf any to think of it, that would be rather fun and he was rather bored at the moment.

He frowned as the dark-haired immortal said, "but why did you tell me there was?" He looked so pathetic Legolas was about ready to snap. He was not going to choke his _friend_, he was not going to choke his _friend,_ he was not going to choke-

Aragorn relieved the situation, or tried to..."Roth, when you get back home you can go and discover some poor creature that really needs help."

But now Roth had put the animal aside. Why had his prince lied to him? He wasn't so much hurt as he was annoyed and he glared before asking in an agitated tone of voice. "Legolas why did you lie to me?" his glare turned into a full-fledged frown and it intensified immensely.

Legolas rubbed his brow in frustration and peeking around his fingers he said, "I didn't know if you were listening and I managed to catch your attention...Roth you are acting childish!" he yelled finally. Aragorn finally snorted and laughed. He could not help it and let chuckles burst out. Legolas gave him an edgy look and kicked him teasingly with his boot. Then he glared at Roth and said, "get your stuff out of your room, we are leaving!"

Roth growled back in a tone that was torn between laughing and screaming, "you think you are so funny! You know what? You're not so funny!" He pushed himself off from the wall and muttered to himself as he left.

Legolas stood up and said tiredly, "I need to get my pack as well."

Aragorn grabbed the prince's shoulders and forced the fair being to look at him. Legolas looked at the human like he had spouted two heads. What was the ranger's problem? Aragorn looked into Legolas' amused, silvery azure orbs and said, "are you well? I mean since the wound you took? It has only been a few months..."

Legolas smiled calmly and said, "you humans amuse me. I am an Elf, I heal faster than you and anyway, even if I was hurting, would I tell you?" he asked doubtfully, his eyes narrowing into slits of dark blue with a glimmer of laughter behind them.

Aragorn shook his head and said with a frown, "no, you wouldn't! And there lies the problem!" He gripped the immortal's shoulder tighter and said, "you know even Elves go through painful healing processes and need to talk to people about it." Aragorn's steely colored eyes constricted to match the prince's.

Legolas brushed the man off briskly and said, "I know if I need you you'll be there, so I don't plague myself with worry. I do trust you, more than I would willingly entrust any other mortal with my life."

Aragorn frowned and asked quietly and yet firmly, "so do you suffer?" He honestly did not expect the Elf to give any answer and just walk away, but he was surprised.

Legolas whispered lower than Aragorn had spoken, "only now and then." Legolas then raised his eyes brows and shrugged. "I had better go and check on Roth . You and your brothers need to drag Glorfindel out of his study."

Aragorn looked at Legolas and knew if he questioned the Elf further he would only anger the immortal and then things could get worse. He just smiled and said, "I can just imagine the sight that is going to make!"

The blonde being gave a smirk and said, "what, me getting Roth, or you getting Glorfindel?"

Aragorn said wistfully, "I don't know. Both I guess." He gave a shrug and then he laughed, "most likely Glorfindel being torn from his study."

It was not long before they all stood in the Hall of Fire, awaiting Lord Elrond to bless them on their journey. Glorfindel was not looking pleased in the slightest. He stood, leaning on the wall frowning at Elrond's chair. Aragorn guessed he was imagining the raven-haired Elf-lord sitting in it, reading a book. He also dimly guessed that Glorfindel was begrudging Elrond for getting to sit quietly, in safety and comfort, reading. With and inward chuckle, the human looked at the twins. Elladan was standing beside Elrohir who was sitting on the ground. Rothinzil and Legolas just stood nearby, not doing anything. Roth still looked irritated and weary and Legolas just looked tired.

Elrond came and his eyes did not look at all calm. He could not believe it, but he had nearly forgotten about Elrohir's wound. In his judging of Ancú, and sending the prince and his companion on his way he Lord of Rivendell had forgotten that his son's injury might not be healed enough to allow travel.

As he walked in Elrohir rose up. He knew that his father knew. If his father had utterly forgotten (which Elrohir had been praying he would) then he would not have that look of debate and intense doubt in his eyes. "Ada?"

Elrond sighed and said quietly, "Elrohir, may I have a word with you alone?"

Elrohir looked at Elladan and then at Glorfindel. He saw no attempt to relive him flickering in their eyes so he sighed heavily and said, "yes, Ada." He went quickly over to his father's side and Elrond set his am about Elrohir's shoulders gently. Elrohir noticed he was careful not to put all his weight on his shoulders.

"How is your wound Elrohir?" inquired his father closely. His eyes glanced down to Elrohir's side that had been pierced with Elladan's blade by accident months ago. To Elrohir the memory seemed very old and was not so vivid n his mind.

Elrohir smiled up at his father, "it is well. It is not very painful anymore. As a matter of fact, I would have to say it is near healed," he finished hopefully.

Elrond was not amused and hardly taken at unawares. They had held these conversations many times before and he knew exactly how it was going to go.

Elrond looked at his middle child for a moment and then spoke quietly, "I am not sure you should go on this journey, Elrohir. If it reopens or begins to burn again..."

Elrohir said calmly, "then I will come home. We should be back before the winter snows."

Elrond frowned and answered his son back darkly, "not before the mountains close up with snow and you are forced to take other paths inhabited by orcs and goblins. You know of which I speak."

Elrohir frowned and then responded softly, "I do. But what if we do not go past the mountains?" he asked quickly. "Please let me go. If I begin to feel wearied I will return for home with Glorfindel and let Elladan and Aragorn escort the prince and Roth home."

Elrond said thickly, "but that is just it, they will most likely find more trouble than you can imagine." He narrowed his eyes and furrowed his brow with concern. He was not going to send his son out there to die, again.

Elrohir narrowed his eyes as he realize he was losing the argument. "I will go back with Elladan then and leave Glorfindel to drag Estel back."

Elrond smiled at his child warmly and said, "I will let you do this, only because I think your wound is fit and I trust you will be well. But I want you to be careful."

Elrohir just hugged his father and said into the Lord of Rivendell's shoulder, "I will, Ada."

As both of them began to head back Elladan looked at Elrohir and Elrohir said, "I can't go Dan." Elrond looked oddly at Elrohir. Did he not just give him permission to go? He had a feeling this was a brother tease brother thing and that he had better stay and watch where it went.

Elladan said in astonishment, "what?" Elrohir had always found a way to get what he wanted unless it was extremely dangerous. He was finding this very hard to believe...

Elrohir said simply and with a sigh that sounded more than false, "sorry."

Elladan watched his brother and the fact that Elrohir was not too upset tipped him off. He suddenly growled, "Elrohir you brat!" Elrohir just grinned and went behind Aragorn.

Aragorn tried to fend off the younger twin who was about to get pounded by an over reacting Elladan. However, Elrohir would have none of it and he gripped Aragorn's shoulders, keeping him between him and the furious elder brother that wished to take his scalp, or at least come so close it would be scary. Aragorn said, "I am your little brother. You are supposed to keep me out of danger."

Elrohir frowned as Elladan nearly grabbed his tunic around the human. "Um...well...today is special," he muttered quickly. He then looked at Elladan, "I just got better. You wouldn't want to hurt me in front of Ada would you?" He looked at Elrond, who was watching the entire thing with a smile on his lips.

Elladan smiled and said in a low voice, "that is why I will wait until later." With a devilish smile and a sly look in his eyes, he lunged at Elrohir, faking him out and gripping his younger brother's tunic collar. Elrohir smiled sheepishly.

"Weren't you going to wait until later?" he asked with a playful grin as Elladan scowled at him-if it could be called a scowl. Elrohir thought it was more of a smile that was trying to turn upside down and failing.

Legolas just watched with a smile and Roth watched with frown. He thought the twins were insane at times and chose to hide it others. Aragorn ran over to the prince and dived behind him, not ready to be used as a human shield again. Legolas looked down at him and said, "I am going to protect you why?"

Aragorn snorted and gave the prince gentle shove, for he still feared that the Elf's wound was not as well as he thought it was. "You are cruel, you know that?"

Legolas laughed grimly and said, "so I have been told." He gave the human a shove back then refocused his attention on the twins who were still smirking and joking among themselves. They did bounce back too quickly and there were times when all of Rivendell wished they would have to stay in bed an extra month, but of course that was not going to happen. They would have to be chained and chances were they would run away before they would allow that. Unless they were conveniently knocked out, thought Legolas with a curl of amusement pulling at his lips that made him look mad to anyone who did not know his present thoughts.

Elladan laughed and said, "but who said I was going to hurt you now?" Elrohir just grinned and was about to respond back and maybe break free when Glorfindel broke up the joyful little fray.

"Can we just leave? The sooner we leave, the sooner I get back!" he seethed. His expression was mirth provoking. He was scowling and yet amusement flickered beyond his eyes. Elrohir laughed slightly before being released of Elladan's grip on his shirt. Both of the twins gave Glorfindel the, 'you-are-the-worst-spoil-sport-we-have-known' look. It made the Gondolin Elf chuckle inside and he said, "well its good to know I am appreciated that much!"

Elrond smiled and said, "I agree, you had better leave soon. Otherwise winter will be upon us before you are near there at the pace you are insisting on going." He looked out at the world beyond the Misty Mountains and said, "May your journey be well and may you come home speedily."

But his gut instinct told him that was not going to happen. It never did anyway, so in all actuallity it was probably reality speaking. Why did they always insist on going on expeditions that Valar wouldn't even do?

At least Glorfindel had argued a little...that was...hopeful. He began to think it was pretty sad when he had to say that Glorfindel was one of the more sane Elves of Rivendell counting himself. But then when he thought about that assertion further he decided that Erestor would have to be the most sane. After all, who actually fights a Balrog and then goes looking for more trouble after he is brought back to life?

**We are a bit nervous about this fic, it is not going as well as we hoped. Review please? It would make us feel so much better and ease our tensions. **


	2. Inborn Confrontation

_**CHAPTER TWO**_

Inborn Confrontation

They had been traveling for nearly two days and were nearing the other side of the Misty Mountains. Glorfindel growled, "it is going to snow soon. I can feel it."

Legolas looked at Glorfindel with a scowl and said, "well if you keep talking about it you are going to call in down upon us and then I will be forced to strangle you!" The yellow-haired Elf's eyes narrowed to slits and he rolled them with annoyance. Why did he do things like this?

Elrohir was acting a bit slow and weary. The gray tint to his face and the way he slumped just a little in the saddle made it more than evident that he was feeling under the weather. Elladan stayed close by his side. He knew that his brother was feeling the bite that come from little sleep, a wound still in healing and the stress of travel. The creases in the elder twin's brow stated his apprehension.

They were all seated on a horse. Asfaloth had regenerated remarkably well and was bearing Glorfindel. The Gondolin Elf vowed that the stallion was twice the horse he had once been. Elladan and Elrohir just said that he was more mischievous than before. They snickered and thought that it was just as well that Ancú had not been allowed to come. He would no let anyone sleep for fear Asfaloth might bite him or steal his things.

Rothinzil was riding old Naneth. She was being her sweet old self. Legolas was riding his steely colored dappled mare. He still could not get over the fact that Roth insisted on calling his horse Naneth. Valar forbid he should ever actually get a warg pup and name it something near as stupid. Legolas thought he would run away, prince or no. It would push him towards wanting to banish Roth if that Elf ever got a warg pup. As much as he loved the archer as a friend, he did not think he could stand a warg pup loose in the palace and keep his sanity.

Aragorn was being quiet and his eyes were mostly on Legolas; watching and wait for his friend to falter as he knew the Elf eventually would. He knew that the wound was hurting more than the prince let on. He would often see Legolas stop, pretending to fix the girth of his horse or adjust the bridle and bit. He knew that really the Elf was trying to 'walk off' the pain as he walked his horse around on the rocky terrain of the mountain pass with hardly a rest.

He rode up beside the prince; to the blonde Elf's left so as not to have Rothinzil between them. "Legolas you need rest. Your father is only going to care that you get home in one piece, "he persisted anxiously.

Legolas looked at him with a half-frown, half-smile and said quickly, "I am well, honestly Strider." He was going to get annoyed. He knew that the human had been watching him every time he stopped. His Elven pride would not let him admit easily that all was not well and he often began to feel faint.

Aragorn knew it and the man said with a sigh, "no, you aren't. I know you and you are not going to tell me until you are in agony!" He edged his horse closer to Legolas' and said, "your pride is going to kill you someday."

Legolas pulled back on his horse's reins and looked at the man riding beside him. Aragorn halted his animal as well and returned the prince's annoyed glance. "Estel," began Legolas somewhat tightly, "If I was really hurting and needed you I would ask. I am no fool, but there are some things that one needs to learn to endure. Only the strong survive."

Aragorn raised a single brow, inclined his head and stated quietly, "define 'strong'."

Legolas smiled and said, "fit for survival." Aragorn had suspected that such an answer would come so he was not taken off guard. He spurred his horse and moved forward, trying to end the conversation that was disturbing him. He let the chill wind that was coming from the north sweep across his face, flapping his hood about him and blowing his long golden locks of hair.

Aragorn heeled his horse and trotted up to his friend swiftly. "It also means being wise in their decisions. You know this, yet you do not act on it." His eyes were narrowed and he used his piercing gaze that often reminded other of Elrond to weaken Legolas' opposition. Those silvery eyes, now darkened to a stormy color of annoyance and frustration made Legolas uncomfortable-the desired effect.

Legolas sighed as he broke down to the young ranger's inquiry and said aversely, "alright, I am hurting, but I can make it home. It isn't that far, any more than six days or so. I really need to see my father Estel," he pleaded. His face looked anxious as his eyes wonder towards his homeland. He wanted to know more of what was transpiring back home. His many friends there he longed to see...the trails he longed to walk...it all beckoned to him.

Aragorn was not happy, but now he was going to let the matter rest. He had gotten the Elf to admit what he needed to and he feared if he pushed any further the prince would clam up again. He knew Legolas would, it was the Elf's nature. It could be a good trait, but by the same note deadly. If Legolas was having internal bleeding he had to know, it could mean the difference between life or death. He brushed aside (with much difficulty) the sudden urge to grab that Wood-Elf by his skinny throat and choke him to death.

Roth had let Legolas ride ahead and when he sensed that whatever his prince and Aragorn were talking about was drawing to a close he came up quickly. Both heard him coming and turned to see the youngest of the Elves hurrying to catch up. A brief look from Aragorn told Legolas that he was not through with him. They would talk more after they had camped and were settled for the night. Legolas just looked away, angry with himself for ever telling the whippersnapper of a human in the first place.

Elladan and Elrohir called up, "do you feel like waiting for others to catch up so we can actually accompany you or did you just bring us along to give us a taste of the fresh air?" They laughed and spurred their horses into a canter, for they were more than ten yards behind. Elrohir was slower, though it went more or less unnoticed by all.

Glorfindel remained silent. As far as he was concerned he was here to get them there safe and drag them back even if they were unconscious. Then a thought occurred to him, were they not supposed to stop at the Misty Mountains? Even though the original agreement was halfway they had to change plans because of Elrohir, did they not? Well, at any rate he wished to go home and the quicker he got the Sons of Elrond turned around the quicker he would be in his study, safe, warm and dry. He was honestly getting tired of being in the saddle already. It was chilly out and even for Elves it would make their muscles taut and cold.

"I think we should be turning back," he shouted to the others quickly. He found it odd that they had crossed over the mountains without any incident from the goblins. He guessed it was the winter and its chill. The goblins were probably deep in their lairs and holes like the bunch of debased creatures they were, planing wicked plots and mining for jewels and silver.

Elladan grinned in a way that made Glorfindel feel an argument coming on and said, "oh Glorfindel! You are such a spoil sport!" Oh yes, here it came. The Gondolin Elf rolled his eyes inwardly and sighed out loud.

Elrohir, who normally would have chimed in, was quiet and he said with a thin smile, "I think Glorfindel is right." All looked at the raven-haired Elf and their faces looked more aged with cares upon cares that they felt for there friend and brother.

Elladan looked intensely at his younger brother and could tell Elrohir was feeling the pinch of illness from the wound and needed rest. However he wished to move on and he knew Estel would brood if he could not continue.

Wrinkling his brow, he decided that Elrohir's health was far more important and further up his list than his youngest brother's pleasure.

Glorfindel continued, "the winter storms will be upon us before we can get through the pass. They are coming early this year, I can feel it." He shifted in his horse's saddle uneasily. Getting trapped in the mountains was death sentence. Not only from cold but if goblins did choose to come abroad, one had no way of defense and would be slain or taken by them to be slain later as the miserable orcs saw fit. He was charged with getting the twins and Estel back. If they even got into a confrontation with orcs and came back with a scratch Lord Elrond would not be happy at all and most likely lecture for an hour about the dangers of the mountains and how they all knew better.

Aragorn had over heard and was having nothing of it. "I said I would accompany them half way. This is a third!" The he began to wonder if Elrohir was the reason that they were turning back...

Glorfindel snapped, "nevertheless, I was told by Elrond himself not to go further once we were over the mountains. It is dangerous. What if the snow blocked the pass?" Glorfindel spurred his horse up and looked Aragorn in the eye; "your brother's strength is waning Estel. He came so he could be with you and you could go but he needs to return home."

Aragorn looked at Elrohir and then back at Glorfindel. His eyes showed plainly he was having doubt about whether or not this had been a good idea. "He is bad then?" asked the young Dùnadan slowly. If his brother were seriously hurting, Legolas and Roth would have to continue homeward alone. His brother came first, whatever the case, though Legolas was like a brother to him.

Glorfindel looked down or a moment, struggling for the right words. Elrohir was bad yes, but not that bad. Yet he needed to go home. He looked back up at Aragorn and nodded, "yes. We have to hasten back to Rivendell before something ill happens." Aragorn looked at Legolas and Roth, who stood silently, watching and waiting to continue. They were anxious to get home and Aragorn knew it. Elrohir would slow everyone down, but Legolas just was getting over a wound too. The Elf of Gondolin sighed and said, "he knows his way home. Roth will look after him and they will be fine. Nothing dwells in the plains that could really harm them this time of year."

Aragorn frowned and said softly, "let me explain it to Legolas." How could he tell his best friend that he would have to travel back alone besides Roth? But he knew that the Elf would understand, or at least his heart knew, for it also knew he always underestimated the blonde prince.

Glorfindel smiled and said, "he will understand Estel."

Aragorn guided his horse over to Legolas' and said, "Legolas I have to turn back." This was not going to be easy, even though it should be...

The blonde Elf narrowed his azure eyes and said, "it is Elrohir, isn't it?" He sounded pained and Aragorn looked at the ground quickly. Legolas said reassuringly and in a nearly soothing voice, "it is not your fault, now go. He needs you Aragorn." Legolas held nothing over the ranger. He knew what the man's obligations were and he could make it home solely with Roth. It was not far, he just hoped Anduin was crossable.

The human looked at the Elf and said, "hannon le, Legolas." The prince smiled and that was enough. Aragorn knew the Elf held nothing against him or his injured brother. He smiled thinly back and Legolas nearly laughed. He would have held onto that smile forever if he had known what was going to happen.

Legolas watched them all begin to turn back and he sighed. Looking at Roth he said, "we had better keep going, we might make it before it snows." Legolas felt a pain in his right side and knew the wound was not warm and was getting chilled and the muscles were cramping. He shifted, but said nothing of it for fear Roth would slow their pace to make up for him. All Legolas wanted to do was get home to his father whom he had not seen in months.

The prince began to turn his horse away and Rothinzil followed. He hoped they would reach the Anduin before mid week. He also hoped it was not flowing with ice, for that would make the crossing difficult and dangerous.

Aragorn watched as Elladan rode close to his twin, Elrohir was looking fine but Aragorn knew he could be hurting and never mention it, like any other Elf. In this sense he thought that Elves were fools. They didn't often ask for aid until it was too late.

Glorfindel rode in the back, making sure no one lagged or was left behind. He had his hood pulled up about his face as the wind picked up. He had a strange feeling, like some evil was no longer at rest, but he shoved it to the back of his mind. They soon would be home with no incident and he could relax.

Aragorn rode in the front and he was silent. He hoped Legolas would make it home with no trouble. But he also trusted Glorfindel. The golden-haired fair being seemed to be in haste to get back for more than the sake of getting back.

As the ranger looked about the ground that they were troding on, his eyes darted to the edges of the mountain path. He then looked out into the rocks and sandy patches beyond, but he saw something. The ground looked mutilated and crushed in some parts as though heavy shod feet had crossed there at one time. Orcs: there was no other explanation.

They must have come through in the night. The wind began to pick up, fell and chilled: a sign that winter had indeed come early and they would be lucky not to get snowed in. It whipped his brown hair into his face and before the man could brush it back the wind became stronger. He could here Elladan grumbling about it and though he could not hear Glorfindel because of the roaring in his ears he had a feeling hat the Gondolin Elf was complaining just as much.

When Aragorn looked at the tracks again he saw that they were gone, blow over and obscured b the wind. They were nothing more than small hills and crevices in the earth now. He cursed his ill luck and as Elladan passed he grabbed his arm. "Elladan, I saw tracks, in the sand. They were orc like but the wind picked up and shifted the sand to cover them."

Elladan nodded, "the winter that comes to these mountains has set its will against us. Who can wonder at that in a place inhabited and made filthy by orcs?" He looked at the spot and saw that the sands were moving again and the tracks were no more than a phantom. But the orcs were abroad, yet they had not been attacked.

Chances were the creatures were off raiding some small village or raiding themselves. He hoped the filthy beasts were unaware of them.

Elladan rode further up and Elrohir hung back with his human brother. He wished to talk. "Estel?" he asked quietly as he drew his hood about his face to fend off the wind.

"What?" asked the human crossly. He had not received much sleep and was not in an overly good mood. The wind was grating on his nerves too. This was quite a nasty combination in a man who had not as much patience as Elves and he was not afraid to snap his responses back.

Elrohir was quiet a moment ad then said, "I am sorry I caused us to turn back. I know how much you wanted to travel at least to the Anduin." He heeled his horse back onto the path as it began to stray off into the rocks. Unspilled tears hung like gems in the younger twin's eyes. He had let his brother down.

Aragorn smiled warmly, in a solacing way and said, "think nothing of it. You are hurt and need to be home and warm. I would not have it any other way." He instantly regretted how he had spoken to his hurting brother moments ago and wished he could go back in time, if only for a moment.

Elrohir coughed slightly and Aragorn noticed with distress that his brother _shivered_. He felt guilt at ever letting Elrohir come out to begin with. It was his fault. "Estel," he said after the ailment seemed to pass; "I know you wouldn't. But you worry too much." He then gave his human brother a sharp glance and snapped, "put your hood on!" He knew men got sick from this kind of weather and was of no frame of mind to haul his younger brother home half-dead from phenomena.

Aragorn hastily snatched his hood and pulled it about his features and he had to admit that it felt better and the feeling in his ears was coming back. "Elrohir you are coughing, Elves don't cough unless something is really wrong!" he retorted quickly. "And anyway, you worry ten times more than I!"

Elrohir just shook his head. "I am fine, I just got some wind blown into my mouth and it made me cough is all," he tried to convince the human briskly. The he made his horse trot up so he could catch up with Elladan.

Aragorn reached out and grabbed the reins, "you _shivered_, Elrohir!" he argued in a compressed voice. His patience was being stretched as thin as it could get and he was certain that Elrohir knew it.

Elrohir sighed and argued back, "I am fine! I can't get sick and you know it!" He gave the man a hard look and said, "you are the one who can get sick, so look after yourself!" Aragorn released the reins and let his brother ride up with Elladan. He began to wonder if Elrohir was scared.

Glorfindel saw that Aragorn had stopped his horse and rode up beside him, "just give him some space," he Gondolin Elf wisely advised. "He will come around in time."

Aragorn looked at the Balrog-Slayer, whom he noticed was anxious to press on. He knew that Glorfindel could not push Gondolin and the ambush in the mountains out of his mind. The young man spoke his sentiment and nearly to himself, "I wonder if Legolas is as bad off as Elrohir."

Glorfindel stared at the human for a minute and then said, "I tend to doubt it." He watched as Elrohir and Elladan rode ahead, singing silly songs that were pointless and he said, "I wonder if all young Elves are so assured of themselves, or if it is only Elladan and Elrohir who tempt the Valar so."

Aragorn laughed and said, "Elladan and Elrohir, definitely!" Glorfindel smiled and rode on and Aragorn pushed his horse up along the path as well. Then a sudden thought occurred to him, "but I must say this on their be-half; in their youth they have yet to find a Balrog and do battle with it!"

Glorfindel snorted, though it was lost in the draught of the coming storm and he laughed to himself. Yes, he was insane and at times spontaneous. Elrond had told him this long ago and so had Erestor, who had most likely heard it from Elrond to begin with. In any case, it was a perfectly correct assertion, he thought with an inward laugh and smile.

The wind continued to howl and beat down on them. It began to get darker and all knew a storm was approaching that was going to be terrible.

Legolas and Rothinzil looked back at the mountains and saw dark clouds coming swiftly as though Mordor itself was driving them. Both of the Elves suppressed shivers that lifted the hair on the back of their neck, thinking of Sauron having so much power. Legolas said, "a storm is coming. Roth we need to find shelter." He suddenly placed his hand under his cloak and touched his wound, or what was left of it. It was throbbing.

Roth saw his anxious look and his narrowed eyes that were a clear sign of pain and said, "we need some aid and a fire to warm you with too, but will you please tell me something I don't know?"

Legolas looked at him with a frown and said, "we do not know anyone around here. Elves are not as well loved as you may think."

Roth sighed as he thought, _I know that! _Then he said, "I know, but we still need to try. The storm is drawing closer and fast." They could see lightening in the clouds and knew that this was going to be a huge winter storm.

Legolas watched the clouds for a little while then said, "we will never make it home before this snowstorm hits." He sighed and tried to push thoughts of traveling home in the frigid temperatures out of his mind. "I concede, we do need aid." His wound was aching and he needed rest.

Both of he Elves rode a little further until they were near a forest of fir trees. They noticed with alarm that a bit of snow was already falling and a half an inch lay on the ground and in their hair, collecting in their hoods.

As they looked into the wood, wondering whether or not to go in for fear of wargs they heard the sound of many horses. The sharp hearing of the Elves could hear pawing and snorting, along with munching and neighing. But they were still cautious, after all, who was to say that the creatures or people hidden amongst the trees were friends and not foes?

Both of the Elves pulled here cloaks tighter about themselves as the wind picked up. It was truly miserable out. The snow began to swirl and they could hear rumbles of thunder that told them it was getting closer and if they did not find shelter soon or get a fire going they were done for.

Exchanging looks, both of the Elves began to ride into the evergreens, hoping that they met with friendly company. They were afraid that they felt a little too chill to fight in a battle.

It was not long before they saw the horses all crowded around each other for warmth against the winter chill. But they also saw the glow of a fire. It was welcome looking and they began o wonder if these were not fellow Elves moving a herd of horses to the palace for use after they were purchased from the Rhohirrim.

As they got closer, they saw it was men and Legolas looked on carefully. He did not wish to be seen if these men were not friendly. He slid silently from his horse and motioned for Rothinzil to do the same. The other Elf did so, but not without stepping on a twig. Roth never failed to be a klutz when the worst time for him to make a noise arouse. Legolas winced, but then recalled how the hearing of men were not as sharp as his own.

The Elves drew closer to the fire, so they could see the men's faces. Legolas smelled the thick smell of much smoke and liquor. He was not sure that was such a good combination with humans and was slightly put off by it. But then the wind picked up again and the horses were becoming uneasy.

It was an ideal spot to camp in good or bad weather and the wind was shielded some, for the fir trees blocked it as well as sheets or blankets spread between the trees. Snow drifts piled up all baout them, tall and glimmering.

Legolas began to fear the cold and harsh winds more than anything and did something that he normally would never do: he went against his judgement. Rising from the brush e walked cautiously amongst the men and into the firelight, for the cloud over had made the world quite dreary and it was getting onto dusk already. Roth followed and both of the Elves put their hands up as a sign of peace.

The men jumped up, all but one, a tall and burly looking man wrapped in a cloak. They grabbed their swords and unsheathed them. Legolas followed every move they made with his quick eyes and Roth felt a sudden urge to be sick. "What are you Elves doing sneaking around here all alone?" one snarled loudly over the wind that was bending the trees and sending varieties of leaves that had not yet fallen completely from the trees to dance about their heads in swirling masses.

Legolas spoke quickly, lest he should find a sword through his chest. "We need your aid for the night. We cannot make it home in this storm and to try would be insanity." He watched as one of the men came forward and put his sword tip onto his neck. He did not push it in, he did not need to , the intention was clear.

Legolas did not know what to do, but he had hoped this wouldn't happen. The sitting man said, "stay that sword. They came with a show of peace for aid! Is that the best you can do Calmir or do I have to show you better?"

The human that had threatened the prince dropped the blade but he still argued, "they are bloody Elves, the witches of Middle Earth!" Legolas stiffened at the title and would have a made a sharp remark back, but knew it was worthless and would only serve to increase tensions. "With all due respect father, how can they be trusted?"

"Calmir! You will sheath your sword and let them join us! You and I will talk later," he finished gruffly. He turned to Legolas and Roth, "go and set our stuff in the tent so this cursed snow doesn't soak it. You can then come and eat with us if you like or sleep, or whatever you like if it is possible in this cursed weather," he finished lamely.

Legolas breathed with relief. He looked at Roth and saw that his friend's breathing was still unsteady. The prince smiled and said, "thank you, we are sorry for the trouble we have caused you."

The man laughed, "no trouble at all master Elf. Glad to have you. It isn't often a man runs into the fair folk, just wish our welcome could have been better, eh Calmir?" he glanced at his son, who said nothing.

He was going to see those Elves dead. They could ruin everything.

Legolas and Roth set their packs in the tent and were grateful to get away from the wind. The tent was small, five bedrolls already occupied it and then there was their two. The Elves looked at each other and Roth smiled, "at least we are safe."

Legolas shrugged, "I don't know. That one...Calmir...he seemed eager to slay us on the spot and he probably wouldn't pass up the opportunity."

Roth sighed, "I am hungry, I think I will go out with them, are you coming?" he asked as he headed for the tent flap door. He was either oblivious to the danger, or he just didn't care. At the moment, Legolas could not decide which, but he was leaning towards the former.

Legolas smiled and said, "no. I am tired. I think I will stay in here for a time." He began to unroll his bed and Roth looked at him hard for a minute.

"Well at least eat some Lembas bread, Legolas. You need he energy, especially in this cold," he added. With that he turned and went out the door. Legolas sat on his bedroll and thought for moment. He wasn't really hungry and joining the men went against his better judgement.

Deciding to let Roth go ahead and take company with the men, he curled up beneath his blanket along with his cloak and tried to sleep. However the new environment he was in and the thought of getting murdered while he slept did not allow for much rest. He tried to blend night and dream together by leaving his eyes open as Elves do but it only served to provoke nightmares in which he was always freezing while a human stood over him with a naked sword ready to run him through the heart. Sighing, he did the one thing that felt most awkward and yet was the most relaxing at the time: he shut his eyes and let dream alone take over.

Roth came in with a bowl of hot soup, steam curling from the lip of the bowl. He looked at his prince, fast asleep and sighed. Legolas was more weary than he would willingly let on. Frowning, he wondered if he should wake the other Elf. Legolas had to eat or his body would get weak. Drawing a deep breath and letting it out slowly, he drew close to the Elf-prince and gently gripped his shoulder.

Legolas was instantly awake and he grabbed Roth's wrist with a speed only a frightened and startled Elf could possess, lucky it was not the hand with the soup, otherwise he would have been scalded. Roth said quickly, "Legolas it is I, Rothinzil." The blonde Elf looked at his friend with bleary eyes and then gave a small smile.

"Sorry, I am just a bit on edge about this whole stay over with men. Don't you find them a bit hard to trust?" he whispered wistfully.

Roth pushed the bowl of soup at him. "Eat."

Legolas looked at it and asked with a frown, "what is it?" It did not look like something he wanted to digest. Wrinkling his nose he sniffed thinking that it would smell as badly as it looked. However, he was pleasantly surprised.

Roth sighed, "it is good for you, that's what. Now eat." He shoved the bowl towards his prince again. Legolas refused.

"I'm not hungry," he said with a scowl. He yawned, "but I am tired. Wake me before dawn will you?"

Roth scowled back and said, "I watched them make it and nothing strange is in it, I can assure you. You must eat, don't make me force you Legolas. It would be rather ugly," he finished with a laugh.

Legolas sighed and took the hot bowl. It did smell delightful and it had to be better than Lembas bread. When he saw Roth with no bowl he asked quietly, "what about you?" If that skinny klutz of a Wood-Elf gave him all of what they had to share he would force it down his throat.

Rothinzil knew this very well and chuckled before he said, "I have already eaten while you were sleeping. You have slept for hours." He watched as Legolas downed a huge spoonful and looked around for water as the soup burned his mouth. He had been a little too eager. Rothinzil laughed again and said, "I am afraid what water we had is frozen, but I have some cordial in my pack that is mean to give strength." He looked at Legolas and said, "couldn't do you any harm to have some. I should have thought of it sooner."

He went to his pack and rooted through it for about five minutes before he found it. He tossed it to the prince, "a gift from Elladan and Elrohir," he said in response to the strange look on the blonde immortal's face. Legolas smiled and popped the top of the vial.

He knew it only took a few drops and it would work like a gallon of water to a weary and thirsty horse. As he felt the small mouthful of the liquid hit his tongue it instantly cooled the burns and eased the pain. He also felt new strength flow into his limbs and he felt his spirit lighten.

Roth smiled and said, "they are not bad folk once you get into talking. I think I will go and talk some more. You just get your rest."

Legolas nearly spat his soup out. "Roth, be careful what you say. Do remember the Corsairs?" he asked with a single golden brow raised and a dull look in his eyes. "I mean it Rothinzil, you could get us killed and I would have to kill you then if we somehow managed to survive. I do not think I would like that very much," he finished with a dignified snort.

Roth rolled his eyes and said, "they are different. Anyway, I am always careful!" he frowned. What was Legolas implying?

The blonde Elf made on last plea to get his friend to stay, "you are tired too Roth. You have been worrying since I was wounded and you worry still. You need rest as well." Legolas honestly feared something would happen to his companion. He knew how Roth liked to talk and was an utter klutz. What if he said something that put them and their home in danger?

Roth insisted that everything would be well. Legolas just frowned and whispered, "you be careful."

Roth just smiled and said, "always!"

As Roth came out of the tent with a scowl on his face as he contemplated once more all that his liege had mentioned Calmir asked, "your companion, he does not like to talk?" Rothinzil's head snapped up from where it had been staring intensely at the snow as though he was trying to burn it with his eyes. From the fire like look, it seemed as though it was remotely possible.

Roth eyed the liquor bottle in the young human's hand and he said tentatively, "he is just tired. He will be himself by morning." He was speculating whether or not the mortal had too much to drink and whether or not he should go back in the tent.

The man that he had come to know as Calstor called to him, "come sit here young Rothinzil and tell us more about you." Roth thought it was pretty paradoxical that the human was calling him young when he was at least two thousand, five hundred years older. But then again, to this man he probably looked only twenty most.

Roth looked at the human for a moment and then decided it would be worse not to join, for then the mortals would get suspicious and that could lead to disaster. When men could not understand something, they feared it and after they feared it they were not satisfied until they destroyed it utterly.

Going over, the Elf sat by the elderly and yet hale human with a grin. The man offered the immortal a swig from his canteen of liquor but Roth turned it down saying he was not in the mood for it.

"You Elves are strange folk," said the man as he shook his head. He ran a wrinkled hand over the white whiskers on his face that was nearly as full as a beard. "The alcohol will stave off the chill of the night and storm."

Roth smiled politely and said, "perhaps you did not know this, but we Elves do not feel the cold as you do. It is annoying to us and certainly if we are out long in it painful. Yet we can endure it longer." The Wood Elf nearly jumped as he heard a clap of thunder mixed amongst the wind and billowing snow. He was glad for the protection the men had put for the camp around the trees: blankets stretched between the trunks.

If it weren't for those they would be buried alive by ice and snow. The Elf wondered about the horses, but he knew they were sleeping, buried in caves beneath the blankets of snow that acted as an insulation to trap their heat.

The older man's son smiled evilly and said, "so after you are finished enchanting the weather, then what do you Elves do? Did you stop here to watch us suffer though it?" he asked scornfully. He sneered at the immortal and said, "well you won't have the satisfaction. We all have been out in worse and survived with little to speak of!"

Roth nearly snarled back at the man, but held his temper in check, knowing that is what Legolas would have done in this situation. Although he was NOT Legolas and if this continued he could not be responsible for his actions that they would more than have earned. "We do not bewitch the weather. It is what it is and we are not but beings dwelling here for a time. We are certainly not magical." He was beginning to get a little frightened, but not too much. It was enough, however, to make a shiver start at the nape of his neck, raising his hair, and race down his spine.

The man watched curiously as the Elf took out a pipe and began to smoke it thoughtfully. It was medium in length so as to be easily traveled with. It was made of clay and wood. "I did not know Elves smoked," he said with a laugh.

Rothinzil looked at the human and laughed as well, more to relieve tensions than because he found it amusing, "they don't, I do. I am Peredhil." They looked at him strangely and he explained, "I am sorry, that is half-Elven. My father was a man, mother an Elf." He blew out a puff of smoke. "But I learned this after she died and I was raised among men for a time."

The elderly man wrinkled his brow in confusion and some exasperation, "you were raised with men?" he asked incredulously. Shaking his head he said, "that is strange."

Roth smiled and said, "true nonetheless and Elves back home say that is why I am such a klutz." He gave a small laugh that seemed a bit more nervous than he was comfortable with. Drawing a breath of the sweet tasting smoke he sighed as it blew out between his lips. It was a pleasure that he could not often take.

The Calmir sighed in an agitated way and said, "father may I have a word with you?"

Calstor just smiled and said tersely, "later." He shot his son a quick cryptic look that stated as though it was written out in ink that he was in no frame of mind to be messed with right now and if his son knew what was good for him he would take a seat or go away and complain else where.

Calmir was about to argue but thought better of it. It would get him no where. He looked at Roth and sighed, He hated those damned Elves. He could not wait to get his hands on them and slay them.

Rothinzil just looked at the man and mentally shrugged. He was willing to make friends. Calstor seemed willing enough to be a friend and not try to rip his head off with sinister glares. He had half a mind to do something really strange and make them a little scared, even though he knew it could lead to disaster.

The Elf finally decided he should get back and check on Legolas. The prince was recovering after all and he did not want him to get murdered by one of these men. He smiled and put out his pipe. "I am sorry my friends, but I must take my leave. My companion is ill and I need to tend to him."

Calmir watched Rothinzil get up and go to the tent, draw back the flap and go in.

Rothinzil felt it, eyes on his back, and he went quickly to his bedroll, unrolled it and went inside. Memories were returning, ones he had not recalled for a very long time. So long he wondered if he would understand them. He closed his bleary hazel eyes and sleep found him quickly.

Calmir looked at his father and the other three men. He drew his sword and said, "I can go and kill them now. If they find out-"

"About the horses? Nay, they won't and if they do we can make like we was the ones that caught them stealing them," he said firmly and with a low growl. "I think that they will be gone in the morning without ever knowing." He shook his head and said, "if you harm them, I will kill you!" Calstor loved his son, but he knew how evil the young man could be and he knew how deep his hate for Elves ran.

Calmir sneered, "some father you are!" He set his hand on the sword hilt and fingered it a moment before taking his hand off it and then frowning, "what about the horses of theirs?" he asked in a rumble of annoyance.

Calstor just sighed, "we will let them keep the horses, either that or we give ourselves away and slay them. I would not see such a thing as an immortal flame be put out without need."

Calmir smiled cruelly, "who says we have to kill them? They could fight for us in the pit and make us scores of money!" He remembered the time he had captured a warg and had trained it to fight, but it had long ago been slain. He wanted to revisit the arena. He wanted to have the feel of cash in his hand again, of coins clinking and taste the smoke of the hidden chambers that held the pits where the illegal fights took place.

Calstor just growled back, "no! We would not be able to break them anyway. They are Elves, even if we did break them it would be their bodies not their spirit, which is what it will take to get them to fight and spill innocent blood." He drew a lung drink from his canteen of liquor. The old man nodded and said curtly, "if you harm them, may death find you swiftly."

Calmir came and gripped his father's shirt collar and then snarled, "it isn't as if we are virtuous or anything, you are the one who helped me and my boys get those damn horses for an equal share yourself." He gestured out to where he knew the beasts were waiting for the storm to pass.

Calstor flung his son's arm off in a rage and threw the younger man back roughly. Jumping up he shouted, "don't act that way with me boy!"

Calmir just spat at his father and he went to his own group of three followers who flocked about him. Calstor watched his son and knew that the boy was about to lose it. It was ironic how he thought of the child as a boy when the said son was going on thirty.

He and his son had never entirely gotten along. Calmir was too ambitious and anything that stood in his way was an obstacle to be removed by any means essential.

He and his daughter had always been close, but after they lost most of what they had because of a foolish venture, she grew estranged from her family and took to learning how to ride horses and would go away for long periods of time. She was compared with the Elves for her skill with horses and other creatures and her light feet.

Calmir looked at his comrades and said, "those cursed Elves could make us a lot of money like we have never seen the likes of before but my old man ain't gonna let us touch 'em!" He spat and then said, "Damn I want those Elves. Just imagine them in The Pit, just take a moment to imagine!" He could feel the gold in his pockets right then. Of course he knew breaking them would not be easy, but would that not be half of the fun?

One of those closest to him said, "and how do you expect to control them?" His voice was a low hiss that reeked of poison, poison for the ears. But his question was a rather blatant one that was lingering on everyone's mind. It just so happened he was the poor creature to point it out and made to look like a fool.

Calmir rolled his eyes and said, "Kushor, chains can hold anyone and Elves are no different. How do you tame a warg? One step at a time. A horse that bucks? You use spurs, you fool!" He smiled with a look of ice and steel that if the Elves had seen it, they would have ran for their lives and anyone else would have fled in sheer terror, "I will break them, and you can mark my words."

Kushor shook his head, "I mark them, but wait to see if they will come true." Calmir took a sip from his canteen and Kushor asked, "so your father won't let you touch them?"

"No, but will get them one way or another or they will die. We can take them with us when we take the horses into Rhovanian's black market."

He was going to capture and break those Elves, even if he had to commit a murder first. Nothing and no one were to stand in his way.

_**TBC... **_

**Review please? Thanks for all the ones you sent us to start with! We love them and now that the action started we hope it is only getting better and more interesting for you to read. Angst two chapters away; our next post will be on Friday or Monday. **

**Oh! And we think it is fair to say this is a cliffy! Enjoy!**

**Deana: **Yup! New story! There are many reasons, we have had so many re-writes its not even funny, and we are getting frustrated with our writing style at times and just because we think we got over our heads with the theme. Bu thanks for the encouragement and the splendid review. :)

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	3. The Essence of Men

_**CHAPTER THREE**_

_The Essence of Men _

It was a cold morning that dawned on the sleeping Elves and men. The crisp and snowy air was filled with the snorting of horses.

Calmir was already awake along with his men. He had his naked sword in his hand, watching his father sleeping in the wrapping of his bedroll. It was this man who stood between him and glory, between him and his victory, he could not allow that. Anger, bitterness, hatred, envy, greed, welled up inside the younger human, molding onto a single mass of madness. Raising the sword, he held it above his father and he whispered, "see you in Hell!" With that he plunged the blade downward and the man who had raised him was dead without a sound.

He looked at his men and snarled, "get them Elves!" If the fair beings had heard the command they might have feared for their lives more.

Legolas, who had finally opened his eyes as he slept found that men were preparing to hurt him in his dream jolted awake to find reality not far from the mental images. He saw one of the humans over him with a club in his hand and a naked sword in the other. He saw another one nearby with rope and chain. The one with the sword and club he immediately recognized as Calmir.

He knew that the elderly man that they had been with would not have allowed this. His eyes went to where the man had choose to sleep and he saw red blood covering the mortal who had tasted his fate. Legolas's anger reared up towards the younger man who had killed his own father and Legolas and Roth's defender who was kind to them. "You snake!" he hissed the man pressed closer. The Elf vaulted up and stood in a wide stance, ready to sell his life dearly. However, he mentally groaned when he saw he was weaponless.

Calmir spoke thickly, "I very strongly advise you to give up." He gave a sneer. Legolas paid him no mind and instead looked at Roth. Legolas saw that Rothinzil was up and cornered in the tent, but the raven-haired immortal had his sword drawn. He was watching the men with fierce and yet bewildered eyes still a bit bleary from sleep.

Legolas turned back towards the human that had hemmed him in to the corner opposite of Roth. He was just in time to move away from the blade that was ready to rest on his throat. He raised a fair brow and asked with a frown and shrug, "why? I see no reason human!"

Legolas ducked another blow that had to be meant to knock him out, before he did a combat style roll past the man and leaped back to his feet by his bow and quiver. He certainly could not use his bow at this distance. He looked at it and noticed that the men had taken the time to cut the string and make it so it was impossible to use. They had planned this.

Regardless, they had forgotten to take his twin knives, or perhaps they had not expected that large of a conflict out of him or Roth, he smiled as he thought of how wrong they had been. He kept his front to the humans and grabbed his identical knives with a quickness and accuracy that was hardly matched to any in Middle Earth.

Kushor looked at Calmir and said, "damn he's fast!" Kushor readjusted the chains and ropes that he held uneasily. He noticed that his palms were slick with sweat. This Elf was a fighter and a quick one, able to deal out death fast and now they had him cornered. When animals are cornered they fight their hardest, because it means life or death. Elves were no different than animals, were they? He didn't think so; they had pointy ears like some odd creature, like an orc or something.

The humans all thought this, not even taking the time to consider the past and why there were some vague and twisted similarities between Elves and orcs.

Calmir snapped back at his comrade, "he's an Elf you fool! What do you expect?" He aimed the flat of his sword for Legolas' wrist, trying to cause enough pain to make the Elf release on of his knives. Legolas jerked his arm clear and struck at the men, cutting a large tear with his knife from his right hand into Calmir's tunic arm.

The dark-haired man looked at the tear and at the Elf with shock. But Legolas had leaped over to be beside Rothinzil, who looked relieved to have his prince fighting at his side. It felt good to know that his friend would support him now. Legolas and Roth stood back to back. They would rather go down in flames than give in.

The men all crowded around with their clubs and chains as though they were after mad beasts. Legolas looked sidelong at his friend and said quickly in the Gray Tongue, "I am sorry to have gotten you into this. I will distract them, you get away." He knew Roth's past and how he feared this more than anything. Legolas swung his knives as one quickly, in a dance like flow, driving the men back. The blonde Elf then yelled to his companion in the Elf-tongue, "go!"

Roth looked at his prince for a moment before putting his eyes back onto the mortals trying to seize him and said in Elvish, "and leave you with this dismal assemblage? Anyway, it is I who made you come here and so I should be the one who is sorry."

Legolas gave a snort and continued in the Elven Tongue of his homeland, "no! If it weren't for my wound we wouldn't be here! Tear through the cloth of the tent and I will keep them off of you as long as I can." He did not want to see Rothinzil relive his past. It would be like Elrond reliving all of his past, but worse. The prince's eyes shone hot with his resolve not to abandon his companion, not unless his body went cold and his heart failed to beat one more time.

Rothinzil growled back, "no! You can just try and make me. If we are caught we are caught together!" His hazel eyes flashed with some heat of his own towards his stubborn friend who had a chance to flee and was staying back because of him.

Legolas placed one of his knives against the back of the tent, pressing it gently against the cloth so it would not rip before they were ready. He looked at Roth and then locked eyes with his friend, "alright then, together." Roth gave a smile as he followed the other's eyes to the blade that was ready to rip through the material. Rothinzil placed his blade by the prince's, so the weapons were nearly touching and Legolas yelled, "now!" in Elven. The reaction was very much desired and very much expected.

This only served to make the men jump back in surprise, wondering what to expect, which is just what the pair of Elves had counted on as they leaped back through the tear they had created and out into the deep snow. It was as though an explosion had wracked the small tent of white weather-stained leather and wooden rods so great was the shock and fright of the fool hardy men that tried to lay their cruel and harsh hands on the pair of Elves.

Calmir, taken off guard by the immortal's sudden action yelled at his men, "get them you fools!" He was not going to allow them to get away. They had challenged him by being defiant and now only one would win, even if he did not capture them, he would slay them. He would be the one to stand; they had garnered his ire. They had to fall now. He arched his brow quizzically and stared at his men, "what are you bloody waiting for? Spring? Get them you oafs!"

Legolas and Roth stood on top of the snow as Elves do. Legolas was scanning the trees with alert and wide eyes as Rothinzil watched the men come floundering out into the world of white crystal. He suppressed genuine laughter as he watched the mortals fall down and fumble through the drifts that were all about them. He looked at Legolas and said, "it will be long before they reach us." But he also knew the hot and sinister determination in the men's hearts would drive them faster and that perhaps his statement had been vain.

Legolas' gaze went from the treetops that he longed to be in and back to his friend, "you would think." He looked at a large tree nearly covered by an enormous and glittering snowdrift, where each flake glowed as the early morning light fell upon its laced facet. Even if it was long before the men would catch up, he was taking no chances. With the swiftness of a young deer he bounded over the congealed white frozen drops of rain, leaving little or no impression on the soft shining dust. He ran up the side of the huge drift that nearly covered the tree and using it like a ramp, he leaped to the fourth branch up.

Rothinzil watched and his gaze was cautious and unsure. He was part human and for reasons that only he knew, he was not sure if he could make it. He bounded across the snow as Legolas had done with certainly no less skill showing in his movement and light steps and then ran up the drift but only made it to the second branch. He looked up at Legolas as the men struggled awkwardly closer. "Give me your hand," Legolas called to his friend that he had known since the raven-haired Elf was young.

Roth looked back at the men and then he took the hand that the blonde Elf had offered down. Legolas pulled with the desperation that came from near panic and Roth was soon up with him, braced against his friend and rescuer's chest. The branches had ice on them and the Elves had not counted on having that. Roth was a klutz anyway and now he was in dire danger. If he fell he would be captured or break something if he landed wrong. Legolas wrapped his arm around Roth's narrow middle, trying to hold his friend on the branch. Anyway, if his friend fell, this insured he would go with him. Roth knew what Legolas was doing, after all, he was no fool though he acted like one at times and said; "if I fall and you go with me that would be a cataclysmic mess Legolas, and you know something? We are extremely close to that ' cataclysmic mess '!" Here he sighed, "I can't allow you to fall with me. I am a guard and that would be a terrible failure on my part."

Legolas just snapped from fear and anger at defeat, "just stop squirming and don't argue! That is why I am holding you! I don't want you to fall, but if you do I won't let you go alone." He felt the ice beneath his feet becoming slippery as it melted and he heard icicles hitting the ground with soft and nearly imperceptible sounds that only sharp Elven ears could pick up. Glaring at the younger Elf he growled, "I command you to stop this nonsense and regain your senses!"

Calmir and his men were close. They were cursing the whole way. Legolas looked to see if any other high branches were accessable but he might as well have looked for a Balrog up in the tree perched like a bird. Sighing, their only options was to wait it out or fight free. He could feel Roth's heart beating fast as fear set in. The younger Elf had been through this before long ago.

Legolas just pulled his friend closer and sighed heavily.

He looked at his friend strangely as Roth went dead silent and said nothing at all. He could feel his friend going tense and alert. Rothinzil was strange in the sense that when something truly unnerved him, he would fall so silent and grow so stone like, that Legolas wondered at times if the other actually collected dust. The thought was laughable and Legolas would have gladly let out a snicker if they had not been ready to be captured by insane men with their utter agony in mind.

Legolas inquired carefully, "Roth? Are you alright?" There was no answer and Legolas could not afford Roth's silence. If they were going to escape, they needed to talk. He pulled Rothinzil closer still and gave him a gentle shake. "ROTH!"

The younger Elf glanced up languidly with a pale face of a chalky color, like one that has seen death on the horizon not more than a day ahead. His eyes spoke everything Legolas needed to know at the moment. Rothinzil was afraid, he felt weak, he felt ashamed and he obviously was being very negative thinking that they were not going to make it out of here alive. Legolas was somewhat negative, but he was a little more realistic than he was negative. There was a small chance of escape.

The men were drawing closer and Calmir panted in a scream of suppressed and utterly malicious rage, "when I catch you Elves, you are going to wish you were dead before I am finished with you!"

Roth sighed and said, "I am sorry Legolas. I didn't mean to, I just remembered some things..." He shivered and Legolas held him tight, knowing that it would not be long before Roth would fall from the tree if he did not. The prince wished that he could steal Roth's fear and pain, but for now all he could do was hold him close and try to calm the violent shivers racing up his friend's spine. However, from the sick feeling he felt, he also knew that they might not avoid capture unless help came. Legolas now thought that optimism was a very underrated quality that he would have to remember to never make light of again. He gazed out at the men and saw that more than one had bows.

"I know Roth," said Legolas bitterly. He now had to put forth all his will and thought in getting them out alive and in one piece. It was not going to be an easy task and he certainly did not expect to be victorious, but that did not mean that he had given up either.

Rothinzil sighed and said, "I know I am holding you back Legolas, just let me go."

Legolas snorted, "folly! You are my friend."

Roth wriggled and said, "I am getting down and am going to lead them away so you can get free!" He struggled against Legolas who held on tighter. Roth was mad! His fear had turned to stupidity. "Let me free, let me divert their attention. Please Legolas, it is our only chance!"

Legolas held onto his crazed friend and said, "Roth you are mad! You are staying right here! I don't want you dead with a bolt in you! They would most likely kill you or capture you and then come for me and then who will have my back?" He felt Roth's elbow hit his stomach and he grunted but held on tighter and Roth struggled harder. He was not going to agree with Legolas on this and he would rather have himself captured than his prince whom he had sworn to protect and who was his friend regardless.

Calmir saw the struggle between the two Elves and notched his bow. For a moment he watched, rather intrigued by the whole incident and amusement shown on his wind blown features. Foolish Elves! Oh well, it was their loss and his gain. He was going to force them to fall out. Aiming the bow for the tree trunk, particularly at a spot directly by Rothinzil's nose, he drew the feathers back alongside his cheek and matched up the sightings closely. Then he let the projectile fly.

Roth gave a yelp of surprise as the shaft struck by his face and he jerked backwards. Legolas felt his feet slide from the sudden movement on the ice that lined the branch and he felt them slide out from under him. He gave a shriek of his own when he realized they were falling down.

He watched as the ice and snow covered branches that waved above became farther away and then he winced as he felt them strike the snowy ground with Roth landing on top of him. In the fall one of his knives had twisted beneath Roth and then jabbed into Legolas' arm with a sting. The wound smarted with a vengeance and he grimaced. He made a grim mental note to choke Roth if they survived.

The younger Elf rolled clear of his prince and then saw the scarlet snow that was being stained by the small wound in the blonde Elf's arm. "Legolas! I didn't mean to!" he cried.

Legolas rolled his eyes, "I know! I am not angry with you, really. Get your sword raised and lets try to get out alive." Getting out in one piece was no longer a goal, it was already failed. But he still hoped to get out alive and with no more than the scratch that he had received.

Legolas didn't have to tell Rothinzil what he had. The ebony-haired Elf already was on his feet with his sword out and prepared for use. His gray eyes flashed as he pushed his past aside, concentrating on the present. His stance and sharp gaze dared them to try and touch Legolas or himself. He may go down but he would go down in flames and fighting.

Legolas leaped up and got his twin knives ready, but he heard another noise that seemed to be drawing closer, hounds baying and shouts. Then he recalled the horses. He could hear their hooves pounding in the snow and kicking up ice and frozen chunks of snow mixed with rock as they searched for food and played dance like games with each other.

The men closed in tighter in a ring bout the Elves. Roth and Legolas went back to back again and primed themselves to die fighting than be taken alive. Then men seemed reluctant to close in on the Elves that they had meshed in so there was no escape. The anger in the flashing immortal's eyes kept them back.

Legolas watched them with intense blue eyes and he felt his arm throbbing with a great pain now that the shock of the wound was gone. He had his weapons in both of his hands and his expression was set to a grim and stony look as he faced off his opponents.

All the while he could hear the voices growing nearer and the dogs breath seemed so close that he could feel it but they were not there. The Elf hoped they were lawmen that could spare them the bitter fight that neither of them were bound to come out of.

Rothinzil looked back at his prince and then said, "we will take a few of them with us before it is finished." Legolas did not even nod, but Rothinzil knew that the blonde Elf was listening. Legolas did not like to kill and neither did Roth, but Legolas was more loathe to do it. He knew that once someone was dead, unless the Valar had mercy on them they were gone forever and nothing could change it.

Legolas looked at the tree ahead and one of the men, Kushor, saw him and said, "you are not that fast Elf, though you be quick enough to strike like a viper." Legolas shot the man a cold and yet slightly fearful look. Then his look changed to that of annoyance. The man just cackled coldly and said, "you would be dead before you got midway up." Calmir watched the Elves for a moment and then he heard the noises Legolas had picked up first.

"Damn it, the constabulary is coming!" he snapped in a growl. Legolas looked at him and in the direction of the noise that was steadily growing closer. Calmir lamented, "we are found! I knew this would happen." He fixed Legolas and Rothinzil with a glare that was so cold it made the hair stand on the backs of their necks. "But you aren't going to get off so easy when they get here. You will see, the town of Farlost hates your kind." He spat at the immortals, which did not even wince at the repulsive behavior.

Legolas said steadily, "we will see, for they are coming. And what is it you plan to do to us if we are taken? we will be out of your hands and will be set free."

Calmir laughed and spat a streak of saliva at the Elves' feet. "No, you misunderstand me Elf, they **_hate_** Elves and would like nothing less than seeing you two dangling at the end of a rope." He sneered and said, "poor little Elves, not used to feeling helpless and lower than the dirt? Hope you like it!" he barked at the two who were watching silently now, pondering the best possible escape route. He actually felt smarter and higher than he had in a long time as he listened to these fools talk.

Then they heard the baying getting closer and the Elves heard the horses snorting and kicking, running and rearing, at the sight of what both of the immortals knew had to be the hounds. The law force was coming and they hated the Elves.

Roth looked at his prince and said, "they are making it up in a last ditch effort to scare us Legolas, we will be saved," he reassured over his shoulder. Legolas said nothing and just shifted his weight. He was not sure that the men were lying. They had no reason to lie and he was also sure that Roth was bluffing.

Calmir cackled along with his men as Roth said this and said, "I wish we could tell you we honestly are. But you will see soon enough I suppose." He shrugged and said, "no skin off my nose if you don't believe me."

Legolas wasn't paying a bit of attention. He was waiting, for the baying of the hounds had ceased and all was curiously quiet and tense. The trees seemed to quiver with it and the air seemed thick and yet chill. His breath came out in a slow puff of white steamy fog as he looked around.

He suddenly saw a huge wolf hound come over the crest of a drift, balancing out its weight like a cat on large furry paws to keep from sinking. He let out a loud bellowing bark and his speed picked up to an intense gallop as he saw the Elves. Elves were not men, they were not live stock; they were not classified in his small mind and therefore were deadly, dangerous foes that he must eliminate. They were the enemy he had been sent to find.

Legolas saw another come over behind that one and it pulled back its lips in a snarl as its yes fell over the blonde prince. Legolas braced himself for the attack and Roth spun around to face the new danger. "Legolas!" he screamed as one of the huge beasts slammed all its weight into the older Elf, nearly making the prince lose his balance.

It had a mouthful of cloak and began to try and pull Legolas down. He used his knife and cut a gash across ones face. He did not wish to kill them, but they were attacking him and his friend. The dog was nearly stronger than the Elf and Legolas was forced to slice a section of his cloak free to even maneuver away from the snapping and ripping jowls.

One of the hounds went for Roth and managed to bowl the Elf over. Before Roth could regain his feet both of the hounds were on him. He curled up into a ball as he felt the fangs rip into his cloak and tear his tunic. Soon he knew they would sink into his flesh and taste blood then it would be all over.

Legolas ran over and grabbing a hound by its ear, jerked it, yelping, back and then hit it unconscious with the hilt of his knife. The other was about to get its crushing jaws around Roth's midsection and bite down. Legolas hit swiftly and that dog was out cold.

Roth got up and stumbled slightly as he did. He brushed the cold snow from his clothes and looked at the dogs and the smug men that watched the shocked look of the Elves. The men had not been lying.

Legolas went swiftly over to his friend and asked quickly and in a scared voice, "are you hurt? Did they bite you?" Dog bites were nearly as bad as warg bites if they went unattended to for long enough.

Roth shook his head and was about to say no, he was fine, when a thick voice that was filled with wrath that sent shivers in both of the immortals said, "drop your knives and swords Elves and put your hands up now or we will shoot you where you stand."

Legolas looked at Roth and Roth looked at the prince as they transposed glances. Legolas began to step towards the soldiers that held bows with their aim locked on the blonde Elf's heart. "Oh please! You can't think we did anything wrong-" he began but his comment was cut off by a vicious threat that he had nearly expected.

"I said drop your weapons, or do you want to be stuck like a pincushion?" snapped the head marshal with a snarl. He watched as Legolas looked at Roth and reluctantly began to lower his knives. The man snapped, "now Elf!" Legolas dropped them in the snow and they sunk in about a foot before hitting a layer of ice. Legolas figured that was why the men were not sinking as much and the horses were able to run. The men looked at Roth and said, "you too!" Roth dropped his knife and both of the Elves stuck their hands up.

Legolas frowned and said, " you really can't believe we did-"

"Save it Elf whelp! You stole these horses and don't you dare deny it!" stated the constable as he began to take handcuffs off his belt and walk over.

Calmir chimed in. "Not only that, we, me and my friends, were traveling back to town and these two showed up and demand quarter. We didn't like the looks of them and refused to give it and they murdered my old man!" He looked teary eyed, but Legolas knew better and watched with anger as the constabulary all nodded.

"That is a lie!" snapped Prince Legolas with much heat. "He killed his own father and we had no idea about the horses!" Calmir and Kushor sneered behind the marshal's back at the captive Elves. He mocked them and silently said with his lips, 'poor Elf whelps!'

Legolas grimaced as one of the marshals twisted his injured arm painfully when they set the iron cuffs about his wrists. Legolas felt the cold metal lock about his wrists and frowned. "I do not understand. What is going on? What are you doing to me?" His eyes looked around in a panic as he began to feel cold fear gripping his stomach and a sickly sweet feeling began to rise in the back of his throat.

The marshal securing his cuffs yanked them painfully and then grasped the prince's tunic, shaking him violently and then slapping him across the face with his hand. "Don't play cute Elf! Then we won't have an excuse to give you the beating you deserve!" he snarled.

Legolas looked at the man resolutely and said with a bitter hardness in his voice, "you will regret this morning when Strider finds this out! He is man just like you and he will set everything right!" snapped the Elf at his prejudice captures. Then he sneered and said scoffingly, "no, not just like you...he is fair and trustworthy!"

The man just stared at the Elf with a burning hatred and spat into Legolas' face, "What human would honestly waste his time helping the likes of you scum! Did you not care about the men that were left to die in the valley without the horses and at the hands of merciless orcs?" he snarled at the fair-haired being who took a slender hand and wiped the spittle away from his eyes with the back of his hand in disgust.

Legolas just asked, "what?" He was bewildered exclusively. Orcs? Was that why they had seen their tracks and not been attacked? It must have...but maybe not.

The man sneered and said, "as if you don't know Elf. I wager you thought it was fun to think of them being mutilated and screaming as they were taken apart by the scimitars of orcs with no horses to ride away on to their escape!" he accused angrily. "They were all loving fathers with families and now their wives are widows and their children fatherless, but you love it, don't you?" He gripped the chain attached to the prince's cuffs and began to lead him away. "Master Elf you are under arrest for the murder of Calstor and the theft of horses leading up to the slaughter of many innocent men."

Legolas shook his head. This was all going so fast and he did not get it all at all. All he knew as he was accused of crimes that these other men (that had first tried to capture him for a reason he did not know of) who were leaning on the trees and helping to round up the horses for the marshals to take back had committed and now he and his dear friend were to pay the price probably by death. "No. We didn't do it. We were on our way home. You must listen."

Roth nodded urgently as he was brought up alongside Legolas in bonds of iron cuffs that were much too tight. It was as though the men feared the Elves escape greatly and thought them capable of much that they weren't. "And anyway," asked Rothinzil, "who ever heard of two stealing nigh on a hundred or so horses?" He gave a snort to state his doubt it had and could ever be done.

The man thought a moment and then said, "no...but you Elves are witches and are capable of casting spells to put things under your will," he answered sourly as he silently conceded the point in his head.

Legolas stiffened at the slur to his race that he all too often heard and Roth scowled. But the more they argued the more trouble they seemed to get into so they decided that it might be best to say little and send word to Estel to get their names cleared. But then Legolas had a sudden thought sparked by his over protectiveness of his mortal friend, what if they took the ranger for a traitor to the world of men because he chose to side with a bunch of Elves?

Legolas made up his mind right then; he would not allow that. He would rather die than see his friend come into the trap of trying to save him and thus becoming an outcast of his own race.

Aragorn stroked his horse's velvety nose gently as he stood by Glorfindel and his brothers, surveying the now blocked pass. The snow had come hard, but the majority of it had fallen around Mirkwood's borders and he hoped Legolas was well. However, he had the distinct feeling that the Elf was not as well as could be hoped.

He knew that Elrohir was not doing all hat great either. The younger twin desperately needed rest and warmth not the bitter cold that threatened to freeze them all. Elladan had managed to hollow out a spot in the snow and he had given his cloak to Elrohir, in hopes the younger twin was not going to catch a chill.

The only bad thing was, they had no way to light a fire. They could not burn the snow and trees were buried. It looked as though they were going to freeze to death. For the Elves it would be a bit slower, but they would freeze just as well in time. They also knew that they would be lucky if the orcs did not find them half-alive and decide to finish the job.

Aragorn sighed. He missed Legolas and with this harsh whether his friends were safe or whether they were freezing or even worse...already dead. Buried in a world of white.

As he watched his brothers he saw the worry lining Elladan's face as he watched Elrohir suffer from the wound that was chilled now. Elrohir tried not to show it, but it was painfully obvious by the way he walked and the way he was so quiet. And every now and then, he shivered slightly. The younger of the twin brother's lips were turning a disturbing, indeed, very alarming, shade of blue-ish gray.

Glorfindel pulled Aragorn aside. "More snow is coming, you feel it as do I. We cannot linger, it will be Elrohir's death," said the Gondolin Elf with a moan.

Aragorn sighed with exasperation and said, "I can't very easily do anything about it, but I fear for Legolas and Roth. You know as well as I do that they couldn't have made it home yet." He shifted his gaze out beyond the mountains. "Legolas' wound wasn't healed enough yet Glorfindel, he needs help." Glorfindel followed the young ranger's gaze and the human whispered, "he can't be any better than Elrohir is...he could die." The Aragorn said even lower, "or is already dead."

Glorfindel sighed inwardly and said, "you want to go and find him, don't you?" The Elf of Gondolin was having an inward struggle. He was supposed to bring them back and yet he knew Legolas needed help. But if he went with the human, Elladan and Elrohir might not make it back. He doubted very much Aragorn would make it and even if he did Lord Elrond would never let him here the end of it.

Aragorn smiled and said softly, "Of course I do! He is my friend after all and I know he would do it for me." The man then pulled his cloak around himself tighter and shivered slightly. He tried to hide it but he could not, the cold was wearing on his young body and he was feeling weary. Aragorn put the horse between himself and the wind, but it helped little and the beast moved.

Glorfindel brushed some golden hair from his eyes that the wind had plastered against his fair face and then said, "you would freeze to death before you found him and what would Lord Elrond say to me?" Glorfindel was responsible for getting them back safely, or relatively so anyway. _All that matters is that I try! All that matters is that I try. All that matters is-_

His inward consultation and monologue was suddenly broken and he nearly flinched. He silently thanked the Valar for the sake of his pride and honor that he did not actually do so.

The young man said, "I would find him and all will be well. He can't have gotten far past the village of Farlost." How could Aragorn make his brothers or Glorfindel understand? Legolas needed him; he could feel it like he could feel an illness before it came. Fear for his friend made his stomach ill and he pushed it back, but that was not an easy task.

Glorfindel frowned and said, "then chances are if he knew the storm was coming and he and Rothinzil got help there." Glorfindel could draw no other conclusions and it did make him feel rather stupid. But he was grateful for one tiny thing that would hardly seem significant to anyone else save he: Erestor was nowhere to be seen. Of course he did not doubt that once Aragorn got back and had to give a half-way decent explanation it would all be poor Glorfindel's fault.

Aragorn could.

"No! The village hates Elves, if they have him or Roth they have them in prison and I doubt that it is very warm there," argued the ranger adamantly. "They both could die and the men of that town could care less." Aragorn knew that men often hated what they could not understand or what scared them and Elves were hard to understand indeed, for if you did not know them and they not you they spoke in riddles, though they did not mean to. "Farlost would be worse than being out in the wilderness and cold."

Glorfindel looked into the eyes of the ranger and saw the fear in them. He knew how Elves were hated all over, but in Farlost? He had never known that. "Are you sure?" he asked the man. "I had never heard of this."

Aragorn grabbed Glorfindel's shoulder and squeezed, "because Elves that go in there don't come back." He sighed, "most are shot before they come near the village by hunters and such." Aragorn had to admit this was one of those times he loathed his race and what they stood for. He had been raised around Elves and loved them for what they were, free and comical, yet serious and wise beings that were kind by nature and lived forever, watching ages pass them by and never feeling them. To most it would be a torment, but that is what the Elves endured and yet hated men not, save for a sparse few Elves that avoided men completely.

He saw Glorfindel give a shudder, of slight cold or disgust, he did not know. "And you think you could find him?" asked the golden-haired Elf skeptically with a raised brow.

"I know I can and bring him home, but I can't let any of you come with me. Elrohir wouldn't make it and he needs you to be with him," said Aragorn in a low tone. His facial expression became anxious and his eyes darted back to his brothers and to the land he had just come from only hours ago.

Glorfindel took his cloak off and draped it across the human's shoulders. "I hope this will help some. "He pulled the human closer and whispered, "I know that Legolas needs you, and I will give you as much aid as I may." He sighed and said reluctantly, as though the right words just wouldn't come, "be careful and come back in one piece, please. I would hate to have the twins after me, they can be quite mean."

Aragorn gave a wry chuckle and said, "yes, very. I will be careful, as always." He watched as the Gondolin Elf-lord sported a façade that clearly stated he had his doubts.

Glorfindel sighed and said, "I thought you would say that." He snorted, "If you don't come back in one piece I'm killing what is left."

Aragorn said, "and if I don't save Legolas or Roth I will readily let you!" He looked at his brothers. Elladan was trying to get Elrohir to lay down and relax and Elrohir was having none of it. He was insisting he was well and Elladan was insisting he be not. Aragorn was going to miss them, but he could take care of himself, couldn't he? Of course he could! Now was his chance to prove it. He said in a murmur, "look after them, will you? Particularly Elladan, he won't understand. He always was the mother hen."

Glorfindel smiled warmly, "I will do my best, but I can make no promises with those two." The Gondolin Elf shifted uneasily and said, "I might as well write out my will because once I get back I am sure I will be slowly killed!"

Aragorn laughed and said, "I understand that. But Ada will not kill you! You exaggerate. He will be grumpy, yes...stiff, yes...but murderous? Not father." He knew that by the look on the Gondolin Elf's face that Glorfindel was having other thoughts.

Aragorn just smiled and Glorfindel snorted, "well you had best begin your venture lest they should notice you are departing. I think they would quite willingly lynch me for an accomplice." He chuckled at his own humor and Aragorn just shook his head gingerly.

**TBC...**

**Review please? Thank you so much for every last one of them. They are very much cherished and we read them over and over. LOL **

**NEXT POST: Monday **

**-Review responses- :) **

**Deana: **Kill Rothinzil?Us? Well...we can't tell you whether we are or not, but think of it this way, would you kill off someone you really cared about and have put three stories into creating? Good to see you begging for his life...-Elf nods earnestly- We think you made a new best friend. LOL Glad you like the long chapters and thanks for the encouraging review.

**elitenschwein**Nothing much is wrong beyond the wound besides stress andit is Elrohir we are talking about! Come on! Yes, Glorfindel won't be out of danger for long while. –giggles at scowling blonde Elf- You think Legolas is bad off now, just wait.

prince's color drains in terror- authoresses hug Elf- Thanks for the encouraging review.

**Snow Glory: **It's fine you didn't review the first chapter. We all get busy. Now about the question you asked...nice try! We can't tell you! Sorry! Muahahahaha! Thanks for the wonderful review.

**Astievia: **Hehehehe. We actually post every other day. Unless your time zone is different or something. –shrugs- Yes, we got to see her. Hope you get the chance too as well. Yay! An English fan! LOL But Western is fun when it comes to barrel racing and such. I used to hit my stomach on the horn too. Just try to lean back more in the saddle. Anyway, Engilsh actually is better when it comes to learning to ride as far as balance goes. –shrugs- Are you joking around that you don't know what snow is or are you serious? We can't tell as we can't see your face (so please do not get offended at our response). But if you are serious, it is frozen water that falls as powdery white crystals and can deeply cover the ground but is light. It is like shredding ice into a fine powder. About the girl...no hints. Thanks for the interesting and encouraging review.

**Beling: **Of course we are going to be nervous! Why would we not? It is a new story after all and we have performed many re-writes on it. :( But thanks for the encouragement. Glad you like our OC's. It is hard to make them seem real and nearly tangible at times. Awwwwwwwww...that was so sweet you felt our little Rivendell Elf's nervousness. –sigh- Awwwwwwwwww... Tanks for the nice review.

**Shadowfaxgal: **Thanks for reviewing despite your homework. Glad to know that you like it and we post every other day except on weekends. Thanks for the review again.


	4. Injury

_**CHAPTER FOUR**_

_Injury _

The first impression one was put under upon entering the town that the Elves found themselves being lead into like animals was that it was rather dreary and that flower gardens and joyous things were not even heard of. It was bleak and a silent wind swept over it, brushing thatch off roves and sending it to blow across the street.

The faces were all made of stone, thought Rothinzil dully as he looked abut. There was not a single person wearing a color other than black, for they were in mourning for the dead that had met their doom at the scimitars of orcs and goblins.

The people shot them the most malicious and most venomous glares that Legolas had seen in a long while and he could feel Rothinzil drawing closer to him and nearly tripping over his feet. He began to wonder if whether or not his friend was scared out of his wits. It was most probable, decided the blonde Elf at length and he sighed as he looked at the raven-haired immortal walking numbly by his side.

The ground on the street was pure slush and muck from melted snow and dirty water. It soaked into the prince's suede boots and chilled his feet and it splashed up onto his clothes from the horses' feet, making the once warm clothing wet and cold.

Legolas watched the people of the town sharply, noticing every move they made. He saw men shoveling snow away from the steps and women gathering their children in. As the Elf watched he thought of Strider and the town of Bree. But Aragorn was miles away now and he was glad the man was not here.

One young human boy was shoveling snow for his mother took and cast a shovel full into the air; it landed on top of the Elves heads in a wet mush of mud and sleet. Legolas shook his head to get it out of his hair and off his face. Roth did the same and both of the Elves winced when a cold and sharp wind blew on them, freezing their faces from the water and slush that had once been on them.

As the Elves began to slow down, their fetters were pulled on so that they were forced to keep up or stumble into the mud and muck face first.

Small boys picked up snowballs mixed with hard pieces of ice and chucked them hard at the immortal's heads. Legolas and Roth ducked and tried to keep up with the pace of their captors but it was difficult. Of course Roth had to trip at some point.

When he did, he gave a cry as his bonds cut into his flesh, the iron cuffs were put onto the Elves tight, but the most tight on Roth. They cut his skin painfully and he hissed as he watched blood seep out from under them. The men did not care and pulled harder. The boys in the street saw the Elves' weak point and cast more hard snowballs at their heads.

Legolas stopped, not caring if the cuffs cut into him, and went to his friend's side, helping the other to his feet. Roth said in a harsh whisper, "what are you doing?"

Legolas said quietly, "helping you, you are hurt." He looked at the blood on Roth's hands and said, "remind me to tend to that." Of course, he knew that he would have to remind himself. Rothinzil wouldn't forget, but he would never trouble Legolas over it, and that was a fact Legolas had learned some time ago.

Legolas suddenly felt a pain as a snowball found its mark and hit his face. It burned and he closed his eyes against tears that threatened. He felt lonely, hurt and utterly miserable. He knew that he was feeling sorry for himself but it was hard not to. He hated this place, these people were insane and he wished he was anywhere but here. Legolas felt a cut where a chunk of ice had jabbed him, beginning to burn with fire and he felt the hot blood trickling onto his cheek. Roth's looked at Legolas and said in a whisper, "Legolas, we have to move."

One of the men on the horses yanked painfully on he blonde Elf's wrists, causing Legolas to stumble slightly. The prince dug in his heels and glared, "I would thank you to stop unreasonably hurting us."

The man laughed and said, "would you now? Too bad Elf!" He not only pulled, but struck out with his riding crop at the blonde Elf who stood stone still and let the fire in his eyes speak his thoughts. The baton came within centimeters of hitting the Elf's face, but Legolas didn't even have to move to avoid it.

The Elves were lead to the end of the town, to a cold and dreary jail obviously not been in use for some time. The jailer saw the men approaching and he could feel his eyes widen when he saw the Elves trailing behind them. "Elves, eh? So it was they what did all this mess?" He scowled. "I am not surprised." Legolas rolled his eyes against the slight to his people and home. It was a disgusting and painful aspect of life; men no longer liked Elves and the races were now estranged. Legolas knew that the Valar had to have a reason for this seemingly bleak outlook the races had on each other, but he could not understand it and he wished it had not happened in his lifetime. Although men were not his greatest fear, he had learned that they were not always to be trusted.

The other man said, "aye. Show them our best." He stopped his horse and handed the chain that connected Legolas and Roth together and was used to guide them, over to the jailer. He then dismounted and took a bag with him. "I've got their weapons in here."

The jailer smiled, "set them by the door and I will lock those up after I have locked up these little whelps!" Legolas and Roth stared at each other with wry and hardly recognizable smiles, they were far older than the men so being called 'whelps' was a bit odd. They also were taller than the humans were and that was a bit laughable as well.

They were taken to a small cell that could barely hold two and shoved roughly in. Legolas went to the edge by the bars and asked, "so what happens next?" He almost asked this sarcastically except for the fact that he feared the worst. He had a rough idea of what was coming, still the answer sent his blood to run frigid.

The man laughed and said, "you will get a hearing, but what good it will do you I know not." Then he gave a cold glare and said, "and if you are found guilty you'll swing."

Legolas growled, "but it wasn't us! It was those other men that were with the constabulary!" He knew these men would never listen and he was getting frustrated. And this was all because he was different, because he was an Elf.

Roth stood beside him and his glare was about as dark as the prince's, "you can't be serious!" he gasped. "How can two do all that you men are telling us of?" The younger Elf rolled his eyes and leaned back against he wall then jumped away like he had been kicked. It was damp and dripping. Slime, cold and shiny decorated the walls with its presence. He looked at his shoulder and saw it was soggy as well.

The prison guard began to laugh and then smacked his cloak against the bars of the cell and said angrily, "shut yer traps! Or I can make you! See?" Then he gave a cruel smile and said, "you Elves have a nice stay." Then man then took the keys and hung them up on a peg by the door (but far enough all hopes of reaching them were lost) then he shut the iron door to the jail and walked out.

Legolas glared at the keys for moment, they were so close and yet out of reach. It was enough to drive one mad if he dwelled on it and what did sulking ever do to get anyone anywhere? He leaned back against the wall and sighed. Rothinzil growled, "if only we could get those keys!"

Legolas looked sidelong and up at his friend. He said quietly, "what good is it to run like a criminal? It makes us in the wrong. I will face them and let the evil be on their heads, not on mine." He rested his chin on his knees and blew a curt blast of air upward to shift his loosening hair. Then he looked at Roth again, who was still staring at the keys with fire in his eyes. Legolas rolled his eyes back down to look at the floor and mumbled, "it does no good to sulk over something you can't have. It only worsens your state of mind." He closed his eyes and tried to cross his arms and realize that the shackles of iron were still on his wrists, linking them painfully together. His wrists were chaffed raw and hurt, for the cuffs were far too tight than they should ever be. What did they think he was?

Roth looked at his prince and saw the pained look in the blonde Elf's eyes. "I still wish I had the keys! But your wrists are horrible! If I could get a hold of those ruffian men-" he began gruffly.

Legolas frowned and gave his friend a harsh look of shear annoyance, "you would do what? Talk them to death? We don't have our weapons that are in a sack somewhere!" the fair-haired Elf pointed out abruptly. He set his chin back down onto his knees slowly and muttered, "those cowardly men are free. I bet that even if we are ruled innocent we will have to face them again."

Roth smiled and said, "of course we would! What do you expect?" He hit his forehead lightly on the prison bars, staring out into the dimness. He did not like it here; it was dank and dark, dreary, cold and lonely. There was no fire to warm them, it was about as cold as outside, but with no wind chill and from the small window snow blew in and fell on them. The floor was wet and uncomfortable. Yes, they had cots, but they were not very comforting at all.

The only light the Elves had came from the small window and a globe like lamp that hung from the ceiling and cast an odd glow that was eerie. Strange shadows danced on the walls and Legolas felt fear. It was too much like an orc den and he was wet and miserable. He was sure they would be 'forgotten' when it came to eating and he was also sure blankets were not even in the humans' dreams or farthest thoughts.

He looked at Roth with a darkened scowl and a look hat plainly showed he was not amused and said, "your wrists are in a bad way. Let me see if I can't get those dratted cuffs off."

Roth was silent for a minute and then said, "no, it is of no importance." He looked at his prince and saw red set against Legolas' pale cheek. Blood. His prince was cut. "Legolas!" he gasped and the surprised fair-haired Elf looked at him with a strange look. Was Roth finally completely mad or was he on the edge? Most likely completely mad, thought the fair-haired being grimly.

"What?" asked the blonde immortal with narrowed brows as he watched alarm gather on his friend's face like rain clouds. Roth had better not start mothering him again or he would end up killing himself before their trial began.

Roth stammered, "you gave a cut on your face! It is bleeding! Don't you dare say you had no idea, or I will have to hurt you!" declared the younger Mirkwood archer wildly as he came to crouch by his liege's side. He narrowed his eyes as he squinted to get a better look in the dim light. It was better than no light, but honestly, he did not find much difference.

Legolas frowned harder than he had been before, (if that is possible) and put his finger on the wound that he just came to remember. "Oh," he said with a bit of surprise and then he mumbled, "I must have forgotten. Guess it is pretty small compared to the hot water we got ourselves in this time." He tried to down play his wound, hoping that Rothinzil would agree and let it go.

He should have known he was mistaken.

The raven-haired immortal had no intention of doing that. He hissed in pain that came from sympathy and gently ran his finger beneath it. "Legolas, that has to hurt. Don't tell me it doesn't. However, I think we are lucky, it is not deep," explained the younger Elf promptly and all at once. He grabbed the upper part of his cloak that had no mud on it and was mostly dry and clean. Then he carefully pulled it over enough that he could wipe the blood from the prince's face away.

Legolas winced slightly and closed his eyes so he did not have to look at the stone and iron walls that held them in, prisoners in the darkness. The wind blew chill and snow whirled in, falling onto the Elves and causing them to sigh with weariness. Legolas brushed Roth's finger away and said, "well, at least we can try and get some sleep. I doubt we will be bothered for some time." The cut, Roth noticed with relief, was no larger than a paper cut but had bleed considerably more.

Roth looked slightly wounded and said with a sigh; "I can't sleep here. It is too dark and cold. I do not like it here, but you lighten my heart Legolas, at least I am not alone." He drew a shaky breath and sat down beside Legolas and drew his knees up to his chin and rested his head on them with another sigh.

Legolas opened one blue eye to look at his friend, "shut your eyes, it is easier that way and pretend you are at home." He shut it again and drew a deep breath, then his breathing began to get easier and lighter as he tried to drift into peaceful slumber.

Roth frowned, "I am remembering Legolas." He shivered and Legolas opened both his eyes and lifted his head off his knees to stare his friend in the eye. They spared each other in a contest of sharp glances, trying to perceive beyond what was being shown by the other's features.

"Remembering what?" asked the prince in a low voice that was slightly unsteady. Roth's past was a sad one and Legolas felt compelled to listen. He did not want to hear it again really. It would be the last thing he needed to hear in this place, another depressing tale even though, he had to admit, the ending was rather blissful and fortunate.

"My life with men, before you found me and took me home to be with you and my brother."

Legolas thought he was going to be sick from weariness and the sorrow he felt for his friend. He asked softly, "care to talk about it?" What more could he do than be their for his friend? What better purpose did he have in this confinement than to comfort his companion? He was not sure and nearly found himself knitting his smooth forehead in consideration.

Roth shook his head, "there isn't much to say," he answered in a murmur. He was just beginning to understand it himself and did not expect others to try. Yet he knew he could trust Legolas. It was the prince who had save him and pulled him through. If it weren't for Legolas he would have died at age eighty-four in exile.

Legolas looked at him and said, "I know you know I am here, so wake me if you change your mind, alright?" He shut his eyes and listened, knowing his friend was going to start talking. But to his surprise, Roth was silent. In alarm, the fair-haired immortal lifted his chin off his knees again and looked at his friend with narrowed azure eyes and in the dim light it was hard to tell whether they were open or closed. "Roth?" he asked quickly; alarm adding a cold ring to his voice.

"I thought you said you were going to sleep?" asked the other Elf as he rested his own chin back onto his knees. His eyes watched his closest friend intently and with a very suggesting amount of gathering suspicion, wondering what Legolas was up to.

Legolas said, "I can't. You are hurting and I want to help you, but you have to let me." He knew that Roth was bottling all his pain up and he knew that if his friend did this long enough it would destroy him. Rothinzil was still giving him the 'don't-even-think-about-it' look that irked the prince at this moment. He thought of going over for a moment and shaking Roth by his neck, but that was not going to help things and it was rather unbefitting a Prince of the Elves. If Roth did not want to talk about, why bring it up? The young archer was testing the blonde Elf's nerves considerably. Legolas had always considered himself a rather patient Elf, but now he was beginning to question whether he even had that largely underrated quality.

"I would rather not tell you. You wouldn't understand and really, to be forthright, it is none of your concern Legolas" stated the other stubbornly and rather rashly considering that if Legolas ever wished he could get the other banished. He kept his eyes shut so he would not have to look at Legolas and meet his gaze and said, "now rest, you are obligated to it. Your stab-wound is still healing."

Legolas sighed and said, "not until you let me in on this secret you seem so centered on keeping from me and seem to have been doing a good job at it all these years!" His anger was rising now as well as his curiosity. He was already angry at their predicament and the injustice they were receiving because of their race, but now that his own friend was acting like he wouldn't understand and the blonde Elf was becoming positively irate.

Roth just said slowly, "they were cruel to me and I didn't even know it then. I suppose they never knew it either. I always thought that was how it was supposed to be." He wrinkled his normally smooth brow and raised his clear hazel eyes to meet the prince's blue ones.

Legolas narrowed his eyes in bitterness as he recalled the broken Elf he had found in dire need of relief and comfort. He knew Roth hated being drugged because he was when he was younger they had done it, and now this cruel treatment by men was bringing it all back. "You can tell me, I am listening."

Roth was silent for so long Legolas was about to check and see if against all odds the raven-haired Elf had fallen asleep. Roth then asked just as the prince began to grow uneasy, "they drugged me..."

Legolas sighed and said, "when they caught you, I know." He closed his eyes and set his chin on his knees.

Roth continued and asked with a frown, "I thought you were going to listen? Legolas, you look like you are asleep! Are you hurt?" he finished with concern mounting his voice.

Legolas shot his eyes open and said in a hurry, "no, I am not hurt! I am sorry Roth, I am listening now and was to begin with. You must remember my dear friend, that looks are often deceiving, as they were in this very case!" He narrowed his eyes to look at his friend with a slight scowl and watched as the younger Elf struggled for words.

Legolas knew it had to be hard, for mortals were the only family Roth had ever known in his entire life besides a vague memory of his mother. All he knew was that she had been beautiful and her voice had chased away pain for a short time...until she died.

_A fair Elf-maiden dark of hair and light of skin clutched a young babe close to her side as they crouched in the grass and shadows of the night. The child had to be near three and he was dark of hair as well, but unlike her eyes, his were a hazel color that nearly glowed. He was trembling, not from cold, for it was the season of summer, but from fear. _

_They had been out with some other Elves and his father, a human when he had strayed farther than he should have, much farther. His mother had tried to find him and once she did, she began to guide him home. Being no stranger to the forest it was a rather easy task for her but fate was stronger. _

_As she was heading back towards the Mirkwood palace, she came across the still form of her husband, an arrow projecting from his breast and his sword in hand. The shaft was black; orcs were near. She caught her breath and pushed her young child back before scooping up and holding him close. He was already shivering as his Elven telepathy sensed his mother's distress. _

_She went a few steps further and saw the ground littered with her dead companions, maidens and their Elflings, warriors with their swords and bows in hand. One even had his sword embedded deep into the chest of an orc that had a knife driven likewise into the fair being. _

_Not knowing what else to do, she ran as fast as her skirts allowed. The one place her son would be safe that she could get to now was the border near Lake Town, where there were men who would most likely find the babe. _

_But even as she ran, the woman could hear the orcs crying behind her and she could hear their trampling feet, The ground groaned beneath them and she was her legs shaking even as she stumbled further. _

_They had been along the border as it was so it was not long before she broke the tree line and was running through deep and spongy grass. But her skirt hooked on a sharp and grizzled tussock and she tried to jerk it clear but she only managed to caught further. _

_Her eyes wee large and she knew that it was only moments before the orcs came. Her baby! She could not let them find him thus, alone and so young. But there was no escape. _

_She then found a hole in the ground as she stumbled into it. It was an old and hopefully abandoned badger burrow, but it would serve its purpose. She carefully slid her little precious child into the small hiding place. Her sensitive hearing told her she had only a second so she stopped down and held his hand tightly. He was shaking and all she really wanted to do was hold him close, but she was hoping that when she fell, she would fall over the whole and hide him from the orcs. _

_He wrinkled his brow, not fully understanding the dire situation and his chin quivered. "It will be okay..." She whispered softly, "it will be okay...I will keep you safe from harm my little darling child." _

_Then her eyes went wide as she jerked forward and the Elfling felt her hand go cold as the life of the Eldar left her and she faded into death's grip, her hand still firmly pressed into her son's tiny one. _

_Iron shod feet trampled over head and the child shivered uncontrollably. His mother wasn't gone forever, was she? He did not know. He tugged at her hand and rubbed his hand down her face but it was cold and she no longer laughed. Her eyes were open and yet forever closed and he felt the glow that she had carried rise and leave. It was then he knew his mother was gone and he began to sob without letting up. _

_His tears fell like rain and his buried his face into his small little hands. _

_But his sobbing also had attracted the attention of some orcs. Hearing the small cries, they searched for the source of the noise that was music to their ears, a helpless baby cry. _

_But he was not meant to become the orcs' latest toy and men traveling nearby heard the commotion and came running. Though the orcs outnumbered them, they slew them all. As one discovered the hole and cast the son's mother aside, a spear ran through the fowl creatures center and he was dead. _

_A man reached into the burrow instead, seeing what it was the beasts had wanted. When he saw the fallen Elf-maiden his heart went out and his hand was greeted with a set of fierce little teeth. He yanked his hand back with a cry of surprise and then reached back in and hauled out the trembling little Elfling by a single pointed ear. _

_He noticed how the child's gaze was unwavering and yet foam seemed to cover the hazel eyes, like dew on a flower and he said, "you need a home, don't you?" Smiling warmly he said, "ahhh, but I speak no Elvish, so I cannot know your name. So you shall be Rothinzil, the Foam-Flower." _

_The named Rothinzil ran against the man and hugged him for he sensed this was a human he could trust and the mortal reminded him sharply of his father. He was given a special tasting sort of way bread and suddenly everything dimmed and he went limp. _

_The man lifted the little youth off the ground and carried him away. But the dose had not been strong enough and had only served to impair the Elfling's speech and he could not move as he was taken away into a world that he had never really known and yet half of him belonged there. _

Roth began again, "they drugged me, every night before bed. I used to think it was to help me sleep better and to their way of thinking it might have been, but now I know it was my torment while I lived with them. They always would complain about my eyes being open when I slept and so I was drugged...to keep them closed."

_"My child you cannot sleep with open eyes. It is not healthy. Drink this," explained the man with a smiling face as he placed a spoonful of dark liquid to the young Elfling's lips. Rothinzil twisted his head away at first and his head was forced back the other way and the bitter tasting potion was placed in his mouth. _

_As he tried his best to sleep, dark dreams took him. He saw his mother dying and his home dark and eerie. Strange shapes of evil creatures swirled in his mind and chased each other around. It was misery that he faced every night and yet he thought it was how it should be. _

Legolas looked at his friend and he felt tears in the back of his throat. It was miserable to sleep with your eyes closed and Elves only did it under stress, Roth had done it for eighty-four years straight every time he slept and he still did it sometimes out of habit.

The remember sighed and said, "they also would punish me for climbing trees...for walking on thin fences and things that cats walked on...I guess that is why I am still not a great tree climber to this day." Legolas could tell Rothinzil was in a lot of pain and yet he could not help but wonder what his real name had been.

Roth shivered and said in a little voice curious of tone, "I wonder if we can get blankets here." It amazed Legolas how quickly gentle Roth was to recover and change a subject. It could also be annoying at times. What ever was he going to do with this Elf? Valar only knew and only the Valar could help him!

Legolas gave a small laugh and said, "shhhh! We don't want a guard in here. The place stinks enough already and I bet what blankets they would give us would hardly be worth it!"

Roth didn't even catch the prince's jest and he just shut his eyes and kept his chin rested on his knees that were still tight up near his chest. Then he asked, "Legolas, do you recall how you first found me?" He sounded half-asleep and Legolas was sorely tempted not to answer. However, when Roth opened an eye and looked his way, he knew he had to. So he said quietly,

"Yes, I do." He would never have forgotten that day. It had been the first time in years he had been totally taken off guard and let another into his life since his mother's tragic death. He had been afraid to get close to anyone else ad Roth had opened his heart and perhaps...if Roth had not of found him by fate that day he would never have even given friendship with the twins or Aragorn a thought. Legolas knew he would have remained in Mirkwood forever, in his pain and loss. Even though venturing out meant taking chances and getting hurt physically, it was better than letting his inner pain brood and manifest itself in his heart.

Roth smiled and said, "I am glad you found me. I needed someone to teach me how to be an Elf!" He meant this in raillery but it came out half way serious.

Legolas laughed and said, "I am still not sure you have mastered it, but you gave it a good try!" He tried not to think about the poor state he had found that half-starved and shadow like Roth at the young and vulnerable age of eighty-four. Legolas himself had been already near five hundred.

_Legolas and Celebalda were walking through the woods. The light was growing dim and they knew the spiders would be out soon. The both had their bows at the ready, expecting a little trouble or perhaps being overly jumpy. They were not too sure. Celebalda was in training to become the captain of all Mirkwood's Guard and he and Legolas were on their way back. _

_The pair were along the Northern part of Mirkwood's borders, near Lake Town, or well, within a day's walk. Anyway, they were eager and pressing on for home. Legolas was still in a state of heartache over his mother's death, though he would not recognize it at all. Who so ever pointed it out, got snapped at. The Mirkwood Prince had created a barrier about himself that even his father was finding hard to break through. As a matter of fact, Thranduil was fearing for Legolas' soul, he was worried his son would fall into darkness. You could not tell from the way he dressed or so much the way he acted, but more by the way he talked and the sad look in his eyes even when he laughed. _

_Honestly, King Thranduil was considering sending Legolas into the West where he knew for certain that his son would be cured beyond a shadow of a doubt. But the prince had other intentions, he did not want to leave these woods that he loved and in truth he was looking for a reason to stay. _

_Celebalda suddenly said in a bristling voice, "something is out there, can you not here the horses? Stay close my prince." The Elves made sure their bows were ready. _

_Legolas said, "I do not think it is dangerous, we would have known by now." _

_Celebalda said with a sigh, "it could be wargs feasting on the herd for all we know! They are your father's horses! What is that matter with you? You didn't used to be this way!" He ended ardently. _

_Legolas was about to respond when they heard a trembling voice say, "I don't want to hurt you. It is well, I promise." This served to rise the youthful Elf's intrigue and he was going mad with the want to go and investigate. _

_The voice seemed to fill with empty brokenness and great loss. Legolas sighed, the voice sounded too familiar. Should he know this voice? Or was it a figment of his imagination? But no! Celebalda had heard it too, so it was real. But who was it, for the voice was that of an Elf and yet broken. _

_Legolas looked at Celebalda and said, "whoever that is, we have to find him and bring him home. I think he is hurt and looking for comfort among the horses!" _

_Celebalda looked at his prince with a look of complete lack of understanding and silent horror, "what are you saying? What if it is a thief? You would bring a thief home? Legolas you are mad, you know that! With all due respect, your father would not like it1 He does not take well to strangers!" pleaded Celebalda, but his lecture fell upon deaf ears as he should have known, he had wasted much breath. _

_Legolas as already out near the horses and the edge of the wood. They were crowding around a figure in he center. They did not seem scared and so Legolas knew that chances were this being that they would encounter was not evil, for the horses, being of Elven breed, would sense it. Subconsciously, the fair-haired Elf lowered his bow and did not even look behind to see Celebalda running up to guard and be with his prince. As much as Legolas was frustrated with him, it was his place. _

_Legolas walked cautiously in around the horses, they all seemed calm and did not even look at him. The fair-haired immortal just crinkled his brow in confusion and wonder. _

_As he neared the center of the ring of horses, the prince saw a being sitting on a small rock with his elbows on his knees and his chin cupped in his hands. Legolas was shocked to see the raven-haired being was thin and frail looking. He had dark rings under and around his eyes, making the white eyeball seem bright, but in the hazel eyes Legolas saw extreme pain. _

_The being trembled as in extreme cold or heartache. Legolas began to go closer when Celebalda's hand on his shoulder stopped him. "Legolas, I cannot allow you to do this! You cannot see whether or not he has a concealed weapon." _

_Legolas brushed him off and said strictly, "Celebalda, he is hurting and I wish to help him!" _

_The being jumped up when he realized someone was there and Legolas looked at the figure in utter shock, for he saw pointy ears, long and gracefully tipped and the face was fair. This was another Elf, but what was wrong with this picture? Obviously something, but it was hard to tell what it was for Legolas. For Celebalda it was simple. No Elf should be in that state. _

_The Elf seemed young and forlorn and Legolas watched this strange immortal and as he stared into the hurting eyes he saw his own face reflected back, maybe with darker hair and leaner frame, but the eyes, though hazel had a story of hurt to tell that certainly ran nearly parallel to his own tale of anguish. . _

_Legolas watched as the Elf opened his mouth and seemed to be scared, "please don't hurt me! Please, I didn't know you lived here, I will go peaceably!" The other seemed to tremble and Legolas was shocked. Why was this Elf frightened of him and Celebalda? It didn't seem right and he knew it wasn't. _

_"What?" asked the prince in utter bewilderment. "I would never hurt you, if someone has hurt you let me know, we will help." Legolas reached his hand out and the raven-haired immortal backed off a step, jolting off the rock as though he had been shocked by lightning or sat on ice. _

_"No! You Elves are cruel, after my mother's death, you deserted me and left me for dead!" he cringed and Celebalda sighed. This other was mad and it was no use trying to help. This Elf was broken and lost. He was beyond aid. It wasdn't that he was cold hearted, but he could see when it was no use anymore. _

_But for Legolas it was different. He had to believe that this Elf could come back...this Elf was broken...like he was. If this Elf could not come back, who could say he could? Legolas had to believe. _

_"I want to help you, but you have to let me," pleaded the prince. His blue eyes were pleading for understanding. _

_The Elf stopped and looked hesitant, between fear and yearning for friendship. "I c-can't believe that you would do that...for me..." He trembled, "it is a trick." _

_Celebalda said, "let us go back, if he wants to be left here-"_

_"I can't! He is young and broken. We are most likely his only chance and he is mine! Don't you get it?" snapped the prince with much heat. _

_So going over to the ebony-haired Elf he said, "I will help you, you have my word." The prince put his bow over his back and he smiled a thin smile. "I can take you back with me and you can live with me and my father." _

_The strange Elf asked in a awed voice, "who are you?" He had not received any kindness in weeks, not since his human parents had died...the only family he had ever known and trusted had failed him and he had been driven out. The other humans could not except an Elf and shunned him to the point of heartache and starvation. _

_Legolas smiled warmly, like he had not in a long time, "I am Prince Legolas Greenleaf Thranduillion of Mirkwood." _

_The other smiled back weakly and said, "I am Rothinzil, though I am known as Roth to those who I called family." _

_Now for both of them it was a matter of looking in the mirror and seeing their reflections past the mask of pain, but had it been too long since they last saw themselves? Would they recognize it if they saw it? _

Rothinzil looked at Legolas to see if the prince was asleep, he had been silent for sometime now and Rothinzil was actually hoping his friend was getting rest. But to his dismay, Legolas was awake and yet Roth could see his thoughts were lost. He did not know for certain what the prince was reminiscing but he had an idea. "Legolas," he said quietly, "I wonder what will happen to us."

Legolas said as if he was just pulled out of a dream, "they are men Roth and they deal out justice all too often more in fear than in truth. I honestly do not know and to be outspoken I am trying not think about it." He shifted and their was a soft clatter of irons as his cuffs shifted. He could not sleep and he could tell that his younger friend was weary.

"Roth?" he asked softly and with a bit of anxiety tainting the tone in which he spoke.

"Hmmm..." asked the other without moving.

"Get some sleep. I can't so I will keep watch." Legolas wanted his friend to rest, Roth had done nothing but fret over him and his wound for months and he could more than us the rest. The wind blew again and the snow filtered in through that cursed and yet blessed window! Legolas shook his head and flicked frosty flakes out of his hair, but some melted, making him wet.

Roth said, "I can't Legolas. I don't sleep well in irons!" He sounded alarmed.

Legolas sighed and mumbled, "I can tell you a story and most likely it will be so boring you will fall asleep as soon as I begin to speak!"

Rothinzil groaned and rolled his eyes, "try me!" he growled. He was more than certain that the story would be anything but boring knowing the prince the way he did. The younger Elf settled back against the wall, unwilling to lay on the pallet that was on the wet and cold ground for the purpose of sleep.

As far as both of the Elves were concerned, the walls and floor were far more comfortable and smelled twice as clean.

Legolas sighed and said, "if you insist I will do my best." But now he had to think of a story. He knew many but he honestly wanted it to be boring, if it wasn't, then Roth would not sleep but get more excited than he already was. That would never do. Frowning, the fair-haired Elf said, "well...what one's haven't you heard?" He needed to know that first. Otherwise he had a feeling he would waste his breath telling one Roth already knew.

Roth muttered nearly under his breath, "Legolas, I was raised by humans!" Legolas had forgotten that part, silly as it was he had and he felt a fool. Leaning his head back against the wall he tried to think of a story. He knew many, but he did not want to give one that would excite his friend who was already bordering on madness.

"Do you know of Túrin of Turambar and Beleg Cúthalion? It is the tale of a man raised by Elves and his friend Beleg, an Elf who was a captain of a guard." Legolas cocked a brow and looked at his friend with a soft smile. Inwardly he was scolding himself, for this story was anything but boring. Roth would be near paranoid before he was finished.

Roth smiled back and said, "I must say I have not."

Legolas shook his head and said, "then I feel that you must know and so I must tell you."

But suddenly the Elves looked to the door and nearly jumped as they heard the key turn in the iron door. The men were back. They had other shackles and Legolas watched their eyes, cold and uncaring. He could see the want for swift justice in their eyes and began to fear they had come to carry it out on their own. It made the prince shudder inwardly, for he would never let them see it. He felt the hair raised on the back of his neck and cold fear grip his stomach. The thing fear did to the feared and those who did fear.

Roth just watched the men with wide eyes and then looked at Legolas, who was the one the human's eyes were on the most and he knew they had come for his prince. He felt sick and as he watched Legolas' face he knew then that the blonde Elf knew as well.

The Elves were going to be separated and after that only Valar knew what else could happen. Legolas looked at Roth with a moan and grumbled, "I guess the story will have to wait." He felt the sick feeling in his stomach rising and Legolas wished that Aragorn was there. He felt so alone in such a room with so many. It was a strange and eerie feeling that made him want to tremble.

Aragorn floundered through the deep snow. His feet felt frozen and he had a feeling they would be aching if only he could feel them at all! He had not brought his horse for fear it would freeze to death and so he had been walking for hours. The man wrapped he and Glorfindel's cloak about himself tightly.

The Gondolin Elf's cloak was warmer and it had the power of the Elves meshed within its weaving. It warded off the cold well and that helped some, but he still was more than a little disturbed by the thought that his feeling was gone in his feet and leaving his legs.

As the young man pressed towards the village of Farlost he began to wonder if he was freezing to death. For he felt more weary than he had in along time. But that also could come from a worried heart that had a feeling of dread over it. He expected to find Legolas' frozen body beside Roth's or find them at the hands of the people of Farlost. He did not know which he would rather hope for since one or the other was inevitable. Both would be a bad fate.

The snow was deep and hard on his body. The air was chill and that did not help things either, especially when it howled in his ears and blew his hair into his face. If he stayed out in the open long enough he would freeze and then what use would he be to either of his friends?

He tried to recall all that Elladan and Elrohir had told him about the dangers of cold weather, but his body was shutting down he was so numb. It was becoming increasingly harder to think and to remember to breath. He wished his brothers were here to guide him, but he was alone and he felt ill.

However, no matter how he felt Legolas and Rothinzil needed him and he would go to them. They could not be dead, not yet! He could not believe it, he was not willing to. It was impossible. His friends could not just die...not like this...frozen to death...could they? No, they could not. Wasn't there a air bubble or enclosure of some sort aroun them that protected them? None of them could die...but that was not true and the fact that he did not know if they were living or not was such a torment he wanted to stop moving altogether and give up.

What he really wanted was sleep, but that was the cold talking. No! He would not sleep! But what had his brothers always told him about ranging in fell weather? His mind was spinning backwards and upside down.

They had told him to get out of the wind, hadn't they? Go into a valley where the wind can't easily go and the snows are not to deep. But watch out for rockslides, was the other warning they had given along with a warning against mudslides.

Aragorn knew that near Farlost there was small valley with many caves and places near it. If he could reach their he could travel to the town the rest of the way by going through the valley and re-gathering his strength that was swiftly ebbing. He could feel it leaving with each gust of icy wind that burned across his face but he could not feel the pain.

The gorge was impending and the man was sure he would reach it within the next few minutes. Sighing, he continued to bumble his way through the snow, praying he would not step on the frozen bodies of his friends.

It was about ten minutes and he reached the gorge. It was still cold, but rock sides made it more of a ravine then a valley. It was steep and slick as he went down, the sides made slick by the ice and snow. Aragorn hoped he would not break something on the way down. However, he could not say it would be the first time.

But as he got closer he saw bodies, blue of face and yet blood covered their raiment in dark blotches frozen as well. Black, thick shafts stuck out from their bodies and heir own swords had black blood on them. Over some of the fallen men were orcs...no goblins. So this was where the goblins had gone? That is why they had not been attacked as they crossed the mountains.

Aragorn looked at the dead men ad wondered what family they had left behind and what life they had lead before it was cut so brutally short by the sinister orcs.

He also looked about at the crevices in the rock, scared that more orcs were about and watching him. He had to get to Legolas and Roth. The ranger had no time for the stupid orcs. If they attacked him he would make them pay for hindering his way to his friends.

Even though it was snowing, a mist was still around the rocks and low hung clouds created a thick fog. His hair was damp through the hood and he marveled at that, this mist was evil. How else could it pierce Glorfindel's cloak and chill him to his marrow? He knew it was aiding his enemy and that they had to be hiding in wait for him or others somewhere.

But as he looked at the bodies he wondered of his friends were amongst them. He began to wonder if they had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. He had to say he would not be surprised, but that would not help the sorrow he would feel if he did find them.

Even though he knew time was pressing and the orcs were lying in wait close by he had to look. The ranger began to look at all the fallen orcs, seeing if he could find Elven shafts in their necks or chests, but he saw none. So Legolas and Roth could not have been fighting, for even if it was close and man to man combat they would be able to fire at least two shots before having to use their blades. But perhaps not...Aragorn did not know so he began to look at the half covered and frozen corpses.

The man felt he was going to toss his Lembas, but he held his composure. They sight was going to haunt him for many a time to come...

Men with blood pouring from their mouths in frozen rivulets and their blue faces... The wet and the snow. The dismal feeling that held the gorge under its malice and eyes watching him from a distance. It was enough to send chills chasing up and down his spine and raising the hair on the back of his neck.

At long last and to his near complete relief he found no Elven bodies. Legolas and Roth could still be alive, but it was most likely that they were in prison. If that was the case they would not be alive for long.

He sighed and leaned back against the rocks so he could rest and think. He was grateful the wind was not so strong. As the young ranger surveyed the scene around him he knew it was absolutely imperative to keep moving. The man gave an inward chuckle as he realized that was Glorfindel's solution to everything: keep moving!

Pushing himself free of the rock wall, he willed his tired legs to move and to stop trembling. Surveying the rocks, he knew that he had to cross the gorge and climb out, then he realized that in his search for his supposedly fallen friends that he had crossed the gorge.

In surprise, the man sighed and gave a curt nod like gesture that stated, 'well that's over with anyway.' Brushing strands of his dark hair out of his face where they were sticking to his clammy skin, the man began to climb the wall.

He suddenly stopped, for he could of sworn he heard a sound like a bow being drawn back. However, when he stopped moving it stopped and so he continued against his better judgement.

But that was a mistake. It was too late when he heard the projectile released. It was too late when he tried to turn. Knowing he was most likely going to get hit in the head with it if it was well aimed, the man dropped from the wall and he heard a thud as the arrow hit the stone where his head had been. It clattered and crumpled as it fell down to him and hit his face.

Aragorn grunted as he hit the ground and stared at the mutilated arrow fell with him. He drew his sword and then took a defensive stance, ready to do combat with the fowl creatures. However a sharp and disdainful cackle caught his ears and he looked for the source of the cruel noise.

His eyes roved the ground when he could not find the source among the rock walls. It was then he saw a fatally wounded orc that was not dead yet, holding a bow. The creature had used its last shaft and Aragorn grimaced. He wished the thing would just die. But perhaps he could get some information from the miserable beast.

Going over he kicked the bow from the beast that gave a squeal and then snarled at him. Aragorn placed his foot on the creature's throat and pressed down, cutting off its air. The thing croaked and the ranger smiled cold as a frosty February morning.

The orc looked at its would be victim and saw the chilliest set of eyes it had ever seen. They were cold with anger and disgust and with an urgency the beast would never understand. The man growled, "did you see any Elves?"

The orc was silent and Aragorn pressed his boot in further. The creature would talk or regret it. He had no time for games. "Did you?" he asked again in a stony and fell voice that set fear into the injured monster.

"I saw...no Elves...they would be dead!" he croaked around his contracted throat. His eyes went cold and he gave the man the darkest glare he was able to muster.

Aragorn was undaunted. "You lie to me! They had to of come through here!" He looked around desperately. "Where are they!" he all but screamed.

The orc cackled and said, "they were never here...No horrible Elves with bright eyes..." the beast looked as though it meant to say more when it went limp and black blood flowed out of its mouth. It had died. The blood went onto the human's boot and Aragorn shook his foot in abhorrence. He felt vomit rising in the back of his throat and left quickly.

He was going to get his friends. He was on his way and all he could hope was that he would not be too late. Farlost was not more than an hour away even with the heavy snow, but he knew that an hour was going to count for many. Time was fleeting like a swift flowing stream.

**TBC...**

**Sorry, but we have NO time for review responses due to horribly annoying school projects and papers and speeches. But thank you so much everyone. –hugs reviewers- You are the best. Please keep them coming. They mean so much to us! We will try to respond to them later if we have time. **


	5. Somebody Who Cares

_**CHAPTER FIVE**_

_Somebody Who Cares_

One of the men, the one the prince recognized as the marshal that had placed him in this foul place to begin with, stepped forward and with the aid of the turnkey, undid the lock to walk into he Elves' cold cell. Legolas and Roth just watched the men unflinchingly. The man shut the door behind himself and then he said with a sneer, "I hope you didn't think that we would let such filthy, cold blooded murders and thieves stay together in each other's comfort?"

Legolas said, "I guess that was too much to hope for. I thought the men of this town were just, I guess the tales I had heard when I was young were greatly exaggerated." He let his blue eyes fall upon the human with a bitter azure glare.

The man chuckled coldly, "aye, they were. We love Elves not." He reached down and grasped the prince's handcuffs with a shocking strength for a man of his size, then he began to haul Legolas to his feet. The Elf did not struggle, it was pointless and he felt no need to waste his energy and gather this man's ire in the process. The fair-haired Elf just staggered when the man began to tug him out and had the Elf so close to him that they clashed. He tuned on Legolas, "and I guess the tales of Elves being agile were greatly exaggerated as well," he scoffed curtly. Legolas turned deaf ears to the slur meant to bite him. He was not here to argue with the men as far as whether he was agile or not.

Roth watched in consternation as the men lead his best friend out and then filed along behind the golden-haired Wood Elf, leaving him alone in the dim light. He was horribly frightened. He also was angry. Where were they taking his prince and why in all Valar was Legolas going willingly? The Elf had softened since he had known him; he had softened since he had met Aragorn. Rothinzil was more than aware of the fact that if Legolas had never befriended a human such as the ranger he would be making a great fuss right about then.

Rothinzil went to the far corner, not caring if he got wet from the slime on the wall; he just wanted to hide. He hated the dark and he hated being alone. He had trusted men all his life, but this was a side he had never seen before, a side he had hoped never existed. The dark-haired Elf curled up into a ball and hid his face in his arms.

He could hear the precession going own the halls, further into the jail that the immortal's had been dragged to against their will.

Legolas' eyes widened to let in as much light as he could find in this place that was utterly scarce of it. The men dragged him and shoved him along, but the small hallway was cramped and he was shoved into them and he tripped over them. They cursed and said, "clumsy Elf!" Legolas rolled his eyes. As if it was his fault! He shook his head in the dim light. Humans.

There was another cell in the back that was about the same size as the one Roth had been left in. Legolas sighed as he was shoved inside. He guessed he was going to be left alone in there to sulk. But alarm began to grow inside when the marshal went behind him and walked in as well, shutting the door with a frightening clang. Legolas felt his blood growing chill. Why was the man in here with him?

The human gave a cold chuckle and said, "I suppose you think you are doing whether well, don't you?" He walked up to the blonde Elf and put his face by the prince's, forcing Legolas to take a step back. But the man was not satisfied and shoved Legolas back so his shoulder's touched the wall and Legolas felt ill. But his eyes burned with a fire as he was determined no to show the sickness he felt.

"Don't touch me," he snapped coldly and tried to squirm over and out of the way. The man put his arms on either side of the prince, with his palms bracing against the wall for support. Legolas just said, "back off!"

The man did not budge. Instead the mortal spat at the prince's face and said, "you just don't seem to regret the crime you committed Elf, but that will change." Legolas wondered if Roth was getting the same treatment.

Legolas turned his face away from the marshal's and said stiffly, "what crime?" Then his tone changed to one of anger at his treatment, "I came to those men for aid! The storm came and we needed help. We don't know why the man is dead, but his son and friends tried to kill us! You can't think-" Legolas felt his face burn as the human back handed him.

"But I do. You stole those horses and left those men in the valley to die and wander in pain. You were cruel. Now the turn is ours and we will match what you did, you can bet on that." The dark-haired man glanced sharply at Legolas and asked, "and why was it Elves needed help of men? You lie!"

Legolas said, "we are not as strong as you think! We honestly sought help. " How could he prove this to them? He would have to show his wound to them, that was the only way. But it would show them his weakness, his vulnerability. He sighed and said, "I was wounded!"

The man scowled and said incredulously, "a mighty Elf, wounded?" He rolled his eyes. "I am not stupid!"

Legolas knew he would have to show it to the man, but that meant lifting up his tunic. Sighing, the blonde Elf began to lift his tunic up and the man backed off, wondering what this strange being with pointed ears was doing. Legolas revealed his lean waist and on the right side a large fast healing scar that would soon be gone, yet his muscle was still healing.

The man grabbed Legolas' tunic and pulled it down swiftly. "Don't go flaunting your injuries at me Elf, expecting pity! Who ever gave you that wound I am only sorry that they didn't it a bit higher and he flicked his finger against Legolas' neck.

The prince jerked back and he knew he should not have done what he did. He knew it was pointless. These men would never listen and he was only making himself look weaker. He suddenly saw the marshal's green eyes staring at his arm, his bleeding arm. It was the arm that Roth had accidentally caused to get nicked by one of his twin knives. Legolas tried to pull his arm away, but it was cuffed to the other and utterly impossible.

The human grasped Legolas' arm and applied enough pressure to cause the prince to have to stifle a moan. He gave a cruel look and watched as sweat beaded on the prince's brow with the effort to hold back twisted cries of pain. "What a pretty little wound we have here. " he scoffed in the prince's face.

Legolas snapped abruptly from the pain he was feeling, " When we are attacked by those we trust we are caught off guard, we can get hurt. I don't understand men, you think we are strong, and so what are you gaining by hurting those you think stronger than yourselves? You feel stronger inside." He tried to twist free of the harsh grip on his pained arm, but it was futile.

The man's face turned stormy and Legolas could have sworn he saw lightening flash in the human's eyes. "So you Elves are in the business of betraying one another as well as men who never did any wrong?" The man's voice was fell and Legolas immediately regretted saying anything at all. He should have known that they would twist his words and turn them into falsehoods.

"No!" He stated in exasperation. "That is not what we do at all! We do not like to kill and we never kill innocent people or any beings for that matter!" Legolas was getting very frustrated with this man berating him with his hatred and anger. Legolas would **never **have hurt any of those men! But he did not expect these fearful humans to understand anymore. Why had he in the first place? Because he had met a man named Aragorn and begun to trust men again.

"You are a liar Elf!" The man was so fast Legolas never saw the move coming and he twisted the fair-haired Elf's arm brutally and flung the Elf to his knees. Legolas instinctively knew a kick was coming next and rolled clear of the marshal's punishing boot. "You think you are wise and cunning Elf, but a malevolent tongue will get you no where here. It will be your death. If you know what is good for you, you will be silent."

Legolas growled acutely, "I am not the one calling an innocent person a liar! If any one had a barbed tongue to begin with it was you!"

He watched as the man sneered and said mockingly, "'if anyone had a barbed tongue to begin with it was you!'" Then he spat at the Elf and said, "stow it Goldy Locks!"

Legolas looked in unconditional detestation at the shot of saliva that landed on his chest. He then staggered up and stared at the man with darkened eyes. He had had enough, but he knew the human was not finished. Legolas knew that they had only begun.

The two faced each other in silence. Their wills striving with one another. The man's face was dark with anger and hatred, out and out loathing for the Elf he longed to make pay for his crimes right there and then. Legolas' face was dim with pain, mistrust, sorrow and anger at his treatment.

The blonde Elf watched as the man's eyes seemed to glow with anger and hatred that was mind-boggling. The Elf was not sure what to do and he watched as the human looked at him for a moment. Suddenly the mortal drew back his fist and slammed it into the right side of Legolas' jaw. The prince's head rocketed back from the blow and he gave a surprised cry. The man just frowned and then he grabbed Legolas' chin and squeezed it tightly as he forced the immortal to look at his face. "Elf, what have you got against men to make you do the cruel thing you did? What kind of a cold being are you that you do not care about the lives of others?" The man glared daggers at the Elf and snarled; "did you not care about the children who will be fatherless? Those horses could have saved the lives of the men in the valley and gotten them all out before the orcs attacked and slaughtered them like sheep!" He slammed the fair-haired being's head back against the wall roughly and stars danced before Legolas' eyes.

The Elf whispered in a near croak, "I didn't do it! What do you hold against Elves that you blame them for crimes they never committed?" He answered a question for a question. This man was mad, the whole town was mad!

The marshal put a hand on the prince's throat and pressed, cutting off the blonde Elf' airway. "So now you are calling _me_ a liar, Elf?" He constricted the throat tighter and Legolas continued to meet the man's gaze evenly, but the immortal did not know how long he could hold it. He was beginning to starve for air, beautiful air, fresh and clean air...simple air!

Legolas managed to squeak out an answer but it was filled with anger that he felt at his handling, "Master human I am not calling you a liar I am just saying that we did not do what you have wrongfully accused us of and you are mistaken."

The mortal just rolled his eyes. These Elves were just fools. They could not lie to him and expect him to believe it. "You really have no feelings, do you? You cold hearted monster!" he cried with much anger and his voice was tight.

If one would have seen the pair facing off, each staring ice picks at one another, they would have never hoped to see both Elf and man come out alive.

Roth was still curled up into a ball at the farthest corner of his cell. He was frightened, being alone. He did not know what they were doing to Legolas, but he sensed it was nothing that would help either of them.

Just then he heard the noise of foot steps on the cobblestone flooring down the hall Legolas had been taken into and he got up, walking cautiously over to he bars of his prison to see if they wee bringing back his prince.

To his dismay, he only saw men, but he missed counting one. The marshal that had leaded their arrest was gone. He had to be still back with Legolas. What was happening to his prince that he could not be there by his side? Roth yelled, "Where is Legolas? What have you done with him?"

One of the men came up to the bars and reaching through, grasped the raven-haired Elf by the front of his tunic. Roth struggled to be released of the tight grip, but was pulled against the bars and the man snarled, "unless you want the fun and games to begin right now Elf you had best shut up yer yap!" With this lethal warning he gave Roth a rough shove backwards. Roth, with his horrible sense of balance for an Elf, tripped backwards and had hardly time to catch himself before nearly striking the hard ground.

Roth felt his face flush scarlet as he heard the laughs of the men, scornful and yet fearful.

Not knowing what else to do, Roth decided that perhaps he would just try and see through the small window that provided a little light. Looking up at it, he mustered his strength and jumped so that his fingers grasped the edge and then he pulled himself up with his feet dangling beneath him.

The world outside was bleak, bleak as his heart was. It was gray and an icy wind burned his features with malice. Snow blew into his eyes and stuck his eyelashes and brows. Roth sighed and watched as the wheels of carts and peoples feet jostled by quickly in the busy streets.

He knew none of them cared to try and prove him or his liege innocent. He knew that because they did not understand they would see him dead, hanging by his neck. He did not understand how these people could be so cold.

A group of children came by and one of them peered his little round face down to stare at Roth and he said in a small voice that was the first kind voice other than Legolas' that Roth had heard, "hello, what is your name?"

Roth gave a wry smile and said quietly, "Rothinzil, but my friends call me Roth." The child looked so sweet and fresh innocence glittered in the small and alert eyes. The child did not care about the prejudices of his parents and he did not try to control and understand the universe. He did not fear but came in innocent kindness to see the thing that he felt people fearing so.

The little boy just grinned a small grin marked with missing teeth that made Roth actually grin back. "Master Roth, why are your ears pointy?"

Roth winced at the child even marking the difference even though the question was asked in sheer purity of heart and curiosity. But he was not going to try and hide the fact he was what he was and he answered softly and with a sigh, " I was born that way. I am...I am an Elf," he finished quietly and with a hint of shame that he did not understand.

Why did he feel ashamed because he was not like others when it was the differences that made the world work? How boring would it be if he was the same as everybody else? The child nodded and reached a tiny, pudgy hand through the grate to touch the graceful tips in a gentle caress that stated he meant no harm.

Roth resisted the urge to shiver as he marked the cold of the child. The hands felt as though they were made of ice. But their touch was gentle, yet Roth still felt like he was being petted like a dog. But this was an untainted child and he would gladly tolerate it. The little boy gave a tiny laugh that made Roth smile and the youngster said, "they are pretty!" The boy giggled some more and Roth just smiled as he felt the tiny fingers still playing and toying with his ears. He didn't really mind.

The little one pulled too hard and Roth winced and he said with a snort and a snicker, "gentle, gentle!"

The child laughed some more and said, "you are weird, but I like you." He withdrew his tiny hand and Roth watched as the child crouched lower asked, "want to come out and play?"

The Elf withdrew his smile and said nothing at first. His face darkened and his heart returned to its bleakness. The boy saw how hesitant his new friend was and asked another question that was utterly confusing him, "what is wrong Roth?"

"I can't. I am sorry." He said not more and felt his muscles straining as he felt the need to drop.

The boy frowned and said, "oh." He rocked back on his heels and put his chilled hands in his pockets. Then he asked a question that made Roth laugh at the sudden switch of subject, reminding him how quickly children forget and forgive. "Have you ever had maple sugar?"

Roth gave a chuckle and said as he caught his breath, "yes, many times."

The kid smiled and drew a hand across his runny nose. "Bet you haven't had noth'n like my mother's." He smiled at the memory and Roth shook his head.

"I bet I haven't." He sighed. Suddenly he heard quick steps running through the slush in the streets' gutters. He saw the child look up and smile as someone ran up.

Roth stared into the face of an elder boy of around twelve. This child's face was dark with anger and mistrust. He gripped the other's hand and said, "come on Kip. Mother wants you home!" He saw Roth and snapped at Kip, "you stay away from it, it might bite you or something." He kicked slush onto Roth's face and the Elf shuddered as he felt it run down his neck and shirt.

The raven-haired Elf wrinkled his nose in disgust and found out quickly it was the wrong move. The older boy jerked his kid brother back and said, "watch out! He's gonna bite!" He kicked more slush onto Roth's face and he raven-haired Elf winced as a chunk of ice hit his eye. The elder youth yelled, "get back snake!" He grabbed his brother and beat a hasty retreat towards home.

Kip kicked at his elder brother and screamed, "put me down! Arien let me go!" Roth watched as the younger struggled against his older sibling. Roth should have known better than to hope to find friends in this town and to even try. These people would try and twist it around.

Arien must have threatened Kip. The child quit screaming and bawling. He just allowed himself to be taken away. Roth felt a fire burning with slow and sickening flames in the essence of his stomach.

The little boy, Kip, just waved good bye to the Elf he considered his friend. Roth was about to sink into his cell again when he heard the elder boy yell, "that Elf tried to hurt my kid brother through the bars of his cell! He was trying to pull him in!" Roth sighed, he had not, but it was pointless to argue.

He slid to the floor and wiped slush from his freezing face with a wipe of his sleeve. He was miserable again and he knew the men would come here and knock the snot out of him for nothing but the boy's cry against him. It was unfair and cruel, but this was what it was all about...insane cruelty.

He was right and moments later two marshal's came and they began to unlock his cell. Rothinzil felt fear welling up inside and he shut his eyes. But then, unwilling to let them see his fright, the Elf shot them open again with a mask of intense resistance.

The men shut the door behind them and one of them grabbed Roth by his irons and jerked him up, "threatening innocent children now Elf? Well we will see you remember that is not to be tolerated in this town."

Roth snapped, "I did nothing. I merely was talking to the small child!" The man was deaf to his plea. The Elf grimaced and decided that he was not going to waste his breath arguing.

"You spin quite a remarkable tale...too bad it is not based on a true story!" sneered one of the men as he placed a rope about Rothinzil's neck like a leash and gripped the iron chain between his cuffs roughly. Rothinzil noticed with growing alarm that the man's knuckles were white, white with the strength that he was placing behind his grip, the strength that came from sheer anger.

Rothinzil implored, "but you have to understand. I did no wrong. Please listen to me!" He felt his heart jumping wildly in his chest as he imagined what was about to transpire. He tugged at his bonds and he was answered with a sharp jerk to make him stumble forward as shackles were placed on his feet to hamper his movement.

They were heavy, they were noisy, and they made him feel trapped and slave-like. The feeling of suffocation frightened him beyond comprehension and he stiffened as he took his first unsteady step forward. Clink, the chains followed and he felt a hand shove him from behind and a thick voice say, "walk Elf, or it will only be worse, you will see."

Rothinzil tried to walk faster, but it was hard for one who should be free to find himself in chains and being forced to walk to his own punishment that would be anything but fair...anything but merciful.

He felt a rope come down hard across the his back and lunge him forward as he bit his lower lip to keep back a cry of fear and spontaneous pain.

As Rothinzil was lead out of the prison, he saw the town standing about, all expecting him to be lynched after a severe scourging. There faces still gave a stone statue a good run but they also had a grim and hateful look. Women held their children back with their hands and the younger children hid behind their mother's skirts, eyeing the Elf with great suspicion and wonder.

Rothinzil met their gazes as best as he could and tried to put on a brave and fearless face, but it was so difficult. He wished Legolas was by his side, telling him that it was all going to alright in the end. He used to think the prince was crazy and now he was more than certain of it. However, he still wished to hear it.

He found himself being driven and lead to a large poll placed in the front of the prison and clasps were there, to secure a prisoner's cuffs to the dreaded mast of wood.

The raven-haired immortal resisted the urge to wince and stop to stare as he was shoved up alongside it. He shivered from more than cold as he saw the men coming closer and one came carrying a large and cruel looking whip that looked to be worse than anything he had ever experienced in his entire life.

One marshal came and he jerked back on Rothinzil's cloak, snapping the clasp in half and nearly choking the Elf in the process. Rothinzil coughed tersely and he glared at the men as they tossed his cloak to the ground roughly before gripping his upper arms to hold him in place as another man slid a knife under the buttons on his tunic and proceeded to remove it from the dark-haired archer's back, leaving the Elf to shiver in the icy wind that was growing more cold by the minute.

They then grabbed his wrists and connected the iron manacles to the clasps swinging from the wooden post and then they forced Rothinzil to his knees by pressing on his shoulders. Rothinzil looked up at the men and followed them with a pair of icy eyes that were still cloyed with a dispassion for these people that were taking pleasure from his pain.

A marshal came before him and said, "Elf, you have just earned yourself fifteen lashes across your bareback." He drew a cold smile and held up the whip that Rothinzil had seen earlier and it had many tails. Some with serrated edges that looked horrible and evil, "fifteen lashes with this."

Rothinzil felt his throat constrict and then he swallowed his fear and answered back thickly and with great difficulty, "do your worst, you will pay for it later."

The man shrugged, "not in your lifetime Elf." And he walked behind the Elf that was on his knees with his head lowered between his arms and his forehead pressed against the wood so that he was sure the rough designs would be imprinted on his skin.

The Wood-Elf felt his breath stolen away and his back felt on fire as the tails of leather slammed into his back, creating a ripple of pain that lurched the Elf forward and to his everlasting regret, he gave sharp cry at the surprising agony. His breathing increased and his body trembled. He no longer felt cold, he felt hot and sweat broke out onto his features. He felt some blood on his back and he knew he had been cut. His smooth back was now striped with a single laceration that stung like wildfire and bees. As a matter of fact, those might have been more pleasant.

He bit his lower lip until he drew blood as two more consecutive blows fell onto his flesh and cut more bleeding welts. _Only twelve more, only twelve more... _he told himself mentally

He opened his eyes; hardly realizing he had shut them. He certainly had not done it because he had wanted to and he did not recall doing it so intent had he been on not screaming for their perverse pleasure.

As he opened them, he saw the small child he had chanced upon meeting watching him with a tear streaked face. Their eyes met and Rothinzil gave a weak smile as he felt another blow strike him, pitching him forward again. The boy ran over to Rothinzil and crouched by his flushed face that was half covered by his dark hair that fell over his shoulders. The child brushed away some strands of hair but just as it looked like he was about to speak, his mother came and grasped his wrist, snapping him away from the captive Elf.

Glaring at Rothinzil up and down, she kicked snow and slush into his face and snapped, "you dirty Elf. I hope you enjoyed threatening my boy, because you will never do it again."

Roth resisted the urge to shudder and wince as another lash struck him. He could not have helped it or stopped it if he had even dared to try. The men had their minds made up and they were set with them. Another blow struck him and it was brought down on his defenseless back with such force that the Elf sagged against his shackles and tried to draw in a shivering breath as his throat constricted even tighter.

_Help Strider please come rescue me. And find Legolas. Valar knows what they are doing to him. Make it stop! Make it stop!_

Aragorn was nearing the edge of the city and was grateful that the snow was getting shallower and made for easier traveling. He was also a bit lighter of heart because he had not found his friend's corpses in the snow, blue and frozen.

As he walked swiftly into the town he noticed how mournful everyone was and he knew it was for the dead men. He would have to guard his tongue well or wind up with Legolas and Roth. Sighing, he stared at the dismal world about him and he felt the cold slush seeping into his boots.

If Legolas or Roth were alive here, they had to be a world of confusion and hurt. The ranger knew well that the men would place the blame on the Elves that they loathed.

As he walked to the far edge of town where he knew the jail would be he asked some men outside of it that looked as though they had just come in from the wild. "Have you seen any Elves, my good man?"

The human laughed and said, "they be in prison. The one is getting the life knocked out of him as we speak. He assaulted a child."

Aragorn grimaced and wondered which one it was. But neither would ever harm anyone, let alone a little youth. He gave a curt nod and said, "thank you."

Aragorn broke into a run and seeing the jail open he burst through the door and ran down the corridor. The man desperately hoped he was not too late.

His feet hit the stone of the cobble floor hard and he ran on and then skidded to a halt before the first cell. To his horror he saw Rothinzil hanging limply from shackles that had cut into his wrists. The human winced as he saw the constables severing the rope to let the Elf drop to the floor. Roth cried out softly and they gave small smiles that vanished when they saw the cold look in the young ranger's eyes.

"You looking for something mister?" they asked in a growl. Aragorn eyed the whip they held and looked at Roth's still form. He had been too late...too late for Roth, but perhaps not for Legolas. Guilt built up inside and he did not try to shove it down.

Roth was such a gentle Elf, more so than Legolas or any he had ever known. Rothinzil would never hurt anyone at all unless it is the servants of the enemy or he was forced to for the greater good. He knew that the Mirkwood archer would readily kill himself first.

What they had done to him was so horribly wrong and the dark-haired ranger felt fire in his heart, struggling to burst forth with his guilt. He wondered of Roth would ever be the same, he knew that the Woodland Elf had recently (as Elf years go) learned to trust again. If Roth came out of this bent and broken he would never forgive himself. But perhaps he was not too late to guide the defenseless Elf back into the real world and out of the darkness that he knew from personal experience was trying to eat the immortal alive.

"I came to see the Elves. I wish to speak with this one." He watched as the two constables exchanged looks and then shrugged. They did not care about Roth's pain, other than they felt it was justified and the stupid Elf, as they saw him, asked for it with open arms.

"If you wish, but he probably won't be able to talk for some time. He tried to get away after his first punishment and we tried to place him back into the cell, so we had to double it and complete it here," they finished in explanation. They then brushed past Aragorn and shoved him aside against the walls muttering, "what man cares for Elves?" Then they called in angry voices, "you let them go you will join them!"

Aragorn paid them no heed. He was already kneeling by Roth's limp form. When he touched Roth's hand the Elf winced and then begged quietly, "no more. Please. Valar, what did I do to reap this?" Aragorn withdrew his hand, afraid of doing more harm than good. Roth's sickly pale face and his trembling chin and lower lip made the ranger's heart nearly stop; it made it shudder.

"Roth, it is I. Strider, "he whispered to the shivering immortal. Roth rolled over with much difficulty and looked into Aragorn's gray eyes. Blood came from a swollen lower lip and trickled from the Elf's nose. Aragorn could tell that they had gone beyond the limits of Rothinzil's "punishment".

Rothinzil breathed, "they hurt me. I did nothing to them." He struggled to sit up and Aragorn let him but watched to make sure the Elf would not pass out. In truth he was afraid to touch his hurting friend for fear the damage would be more extensive. The raven-haired archer took and placed a hand tenderly against his ribs and then drew it back with a sharp hiss. The hand came back sanguineous with blood.

The ranger hissed in sympathy and he saw Roth's tattered skin. Blood tangled Roth's midnight hair in matted clumps and sweat coated the fair skin in clammy patches. Roth had never been beaten in his life and he was utterly horrified. It then occurred to him just how strong Legolas was.

Aragorn stiffened and asked, "where is Legolas?" Roth did not answer and Aragorn cupped the being's chin gently and although firmly, forcing Roth to look at him. Roth shuddered and the man said softly in the Gray Tongue, "I will not hurt you like they did. They are not men, they are animals." He released the ebony-haired Elf's chin and Roth just nodded and Aragorn asked again, "where is Legolas? What have they done to him?"

Roth drew a deep breath slowly as it hit and pressured his throbbing ribs. "They took him to the back chamber. Three went with him, only two came back out." Roth fell against Aragorn and the man put an arm carefully about the trembling Elf's shoulders then withdrew them as he recalled the lashes. Roth did not cry, but he shivered over and over.

Aragorn frowned, "I am so sorry Roth. I have to go and get Legolas now, alright? Here." The young man took his cloak off and wrapped it around Roth's shaking figure. Aragorn sighed and said like a mother talking to a scared child, "we will get this straightened out, I promise."

Roth smiled and said, "I knew you would come. But I am not broken yet, just a bit shaken." He willed himself to stand with the cloak about his thin upper frame. But his knees were not of the same mind. They shook like a pair of leaves and Roth dared them to stand, putting his will into it.

Aragorn shook his head, dark hair bounced around his face and chided, "worse than Legolas."

Roth rolled his eyes and said, "what is _that_ supposed to mean?" He fixed Aragorn with a suspicious glare that caused the ranger to laugh.

"It means you can be dying from Valar knows what and call it a scrape or bleeding to death and it's a paper cut!" teased the man good-natured humor.

Roth said, "does it now?" He looked at the ranger and then gave an dubious smile, "you are one to talk." Then he gave a small laugh and went to the corner of his cell, leaning his spinning head against the wall. It felt good and cool.

Aragorn sighed and said, "nevertheless that is how you two act!" He shot the immortal a grave expression said, "I will go and see where your trouble bound prince is." Roth just smiled and the ranger knew the Elf had heard. He watched as Roth closed his eyes in weariness then he left.

The man felt his blood pressure rise to another notch as he watched Roth recovering from his scourging. Nobody should ever have to endure what Roth had simply because of their race. It was completely unfair and cruel. Aragorn was going to make sure that they did not do the same thing to Legolas.

His walk turned into a trot like jog and his jog into a run. He felt adrenaline rushing through his system, and his eyes growing wide as he thought about what he might find.

It was not far down the hall, though to the ranger it seemed like ages. He knew he should have gone with Legolas to his home and risked the heavy snows. They had caught them anyway and travel had been delayed, why could they not have spent it in Mirkwood's halls?

The door to the cell Legolas was held in only had a small window guarded by bars so he could not see but he heard a voice say, "you damn Elf! You will pay for that!"

Aragorn was not going to wait to hear more and he grabbed the door handle and putting his rage behind it, swung it open. It banged loudly against the wall, causing everyone to jump in surprise.

The scene he saw was Legolas crouched in a corner, but with a dangerous gleam in his eyes. Straw and dirt was caught up in his hair, evidence of an obvious struggle. Blood trickled from the Elf's nose and the man was stooped over him with his fist drawn back, ready to strike.

Aragorn did not wait to see the fist connect with his best friend's stomach or eye but lunged at the man. He wrapped his arms about the elder mortal's neck and Legolas looked up in surprise crying, "Estel!"

The Elf jumped up as his friend was thrown over the marshal's shoulders and he hit the ground on his back with a cracking noise. The other man then went and was about to pick Aragorn up by his tunic and punch him in the jaw, But Legolas put an end to that.

He shoulder checked the man with such force that the green-eyed mortal was sent sprawling into the stone wall. Aragorn jumped up and put himself between Legolas and the angered marshal. Legolas, Aragorn noticed with much regret, was favoring his left leg greatly, but his face did not speak of much pain. The limb could not be broken, could it? No- Legolas' eyes would speak of that if it were so.

The marshal snarled, "what are you doing boy? You are letting the Elf get away!" snapped the man abruptly.

Aragorn stood his ground and said, "I will not move and let you harm him further. What has he done that he deserves this?" The man's steel gray eyes flashed a bright silver as his anger rose to a dangerously unhealthy level that taunted the others to try and challenge him. How could he make the constable understand? He couldn't and he didn't expect to, but they were not going to touch the Elves again. Aragorn snarled, "He is different and you hate him for it."

"Estel," said Legolas in Elven. "You should not be here. Your father will be angry." Legolas knew that Lord Elrond would be far from pleased about the storm and he was not too happy about it himself. He also knew that Elrond was not going to like another little mis-adventure in which Aragorn got hurt. The golden-haired Wood Elf also knew that Aragorn's broken arm had to be weak enough to be easily broken anew.

Aragorn said back over his shoulder in the tongue of the Elves, "I will not leave you to be tormented and die Legolas, no matter how much you insist on it." He then set his steely eyes on the man before him who had been obviously trying to pick a fight with Legolas and already delivered a few blows. "I suggest you leave him alone. Under the law you cannot continue to harass him. He is not going anywhere and I expect he is cold and hungry. While I tend to the wounds you _wrongfully _inflicted, you can bring that other Elf back here and get them both something edible."

Legolas stared in awe. Aragorn was going over his head about this. Legolas knew it, the ranger knew it, and so did the marshal. "Who says you are going to make me?" he snarled, "Elf lover."

Aragorn snapped at the attempted slur that he took as a rough compliment, "because if you don't I will charge you with prisoner abuse. If you help to heal the wounds inflicted I may be quicker to forgive and forget!" His eyes took up and eerie glow of anger and utter truth. If Legolas and Roth were not treated better he would demand retribution for them.

Legolas had not thought that Aragorn would go that far and he was horrible afraid that his friend would be murdered rather, but the other man just nodded and said, "aye, you have me. But if you let them out and free them then you will get hung as an accomplice."

Aragorn snarled, "I will look after myself. You get what I asked for!" He took a defensive stance as the man before he and Legolas moved and the mortal lifted his hands and said,

"I will get them some food. I will also drag that other one over here. But if they start to cause trouble together then out he goes!" The man smirked and said, "its not like they have long anyway. I didn't think that such cold blooded killers had feelings!"

Aragorn glared and said, "that will be enough! Now go!" This slander filled talk about his two closest friends, and applied to all Elf kind, made him sick with anger. He hated how when his race found one that was different, they feared them and had to bully them into submission or make their lives miserable simply because they were alive.

The fierce look that made it seem as though the ranger would follow him to death and beyond made the man go out of the cell at a run and he tripped over a loose cobble stone, falling onto his face. But he picked himself up and kept running.

As soon as the man left Legolas asked, "how did you get here? Where is Roth? Is he alright?" Legolas hoped they had not hurt Rothinzil too badly. He knew that the damage would run deeper than anyone, even the ranger knew of. Rothinzil was such a gentle creature and if these men destroyed that sweet innocence he would not be responsible for his actions. Roth was like his younger brother and he loved him as such...Roth was like a dog that was still a puppy at heart and would be young forever.

Aragorn sighed and said with a grunt, "they already thrashed Roth nearly senseless. I thought if I moved him in here with you he might calm down." The human sighed and said, "I know you are like a father or a brother to him Legolas...Legolas...he is hurting."

Legolas nodded and brushed a strand of golden hair away from his face. "If they destroyed his innocence I can't say I won't seek retribution on them. He was just learning to trust and love someone like family again. He doesn't show it, but it is true. You know how it takes Elves years to even relatively forget; yet they forgive easily. "

Aragorn nodded, "I know my friend." He saw Legolas' stooped shoulders and uncomfortable stance. He saw the pained look in his friend's eyes that he had seen before. He had seen that same look when Legolas had felt that he had failed him in past conflicts that they had endured together. "Legolas, it was not you fault. You could not have stopped it and neither could Roth. You have to learn that not everything that goes wrong is your fault and that you can't be everything at once. You are only one person in the wide world and there are things that are out of your control! Just because it is out of your control doesn't mean that it is your fault! Legolas, you are going to make your self sick."

Legolas just frowned and said, "Estel..." The ranger looked at him and watched with shock as Legolas finished quietly, as though deep in thought, "you remind me of an Elf-lord at times." Here the prince gave a small laugh and said, "I should not be surprised at this considering whom you were raised by."

Aragorn did not know what to say and he just stood there with a gaping mouth until Legolas said, "Well don't be so surprised my friend, you are of the line of Isildur and that counts for more than you think." Legolas faltered as he stood and sighed as he felt his leg give just a little.

Aragorn looked at his friend in alarm and asked, "Legolas what did you do to your ankle?" It wasn't like the prince to twist an ankle. That was more Roth's style.

Legolas just said, "it was that stupid _human's_ fault." Aragorn winced at the way the Elf said the word human. He said it with a true bitter scornfulness that he was sure Legolas did not know he had let slip out.

Aragorn frowned and said, "Legolas, you do not have to call them humans, you hate it when they call you an Elf. Don't do like wise to them. It doesn't help situations at all."

Legolas snapped angrily, "it is what they are!" But then he regained control if his rage at the unnecessary abuse and said, "I am sorry, I said that. I suppose I was wrong. But most of my people scorn men and even some in Rivendell do, as you know well. It is hard not to let them rub off onto you even by accident."

Aragorn said quietly, "I know Legolas. I hold it not against you. Now what did they do to you?"

Legolas was silent and Aragorn was sure that what they had done had scared the Elf more emotionally than physically. But the Woodland Elf spoke just in time before the ranger was going to ask if Legolas had been abused sexually. The ranger regretted how his race could also be such pigs and give into lust.

"Aragorn he was angry with me. He thinks Roth and I murdered an elderly man we were with and stole horses which lead to the death of many at the hand of orcs." The Elf's voice squeezed off as he fought back tears. He would have never done that and he thought of Roth..."We didn't of course, but he would not see it that way. What he wanted to see was burned into his mind and he would no let it go. He punched me twice and slapped me quite often but I did not fight back. I was not going to add things against me that they could use."

Aragorn looked at Legolas' fearful eyes that indeed were one of the only signs he felt any fear at all. Legolas did not like cells, and who would? But he feared men, though he did not hate them because he feared them, but if it was not for Aragorn he certainly would not be as civil with them. Aragorn's voice quavered with pain and fears that came from sympathy, "I am so sorry I was not here. But I won't let them hurt you or Roth again, Legolas, I won't. But you have to trust me."

Legolas let his piercing blue gaze fall across the human and yet there was a cold and cryptic side to it. He could not expect the ranger to understand what hatred for a race could do. The man had not lived long enough and Legolas blamed him not for it. He diverted his gaze to wander past the bars where his heart lied. To the open air. He whispered softly, almost to himself, "I do trust you, but men are weak and in their folly they hate what they cannot understand or do not wish to. Even if I am ruled innocent I will be hunted until I get home by those who do not care for the ruling, and then what trouble will I bring with me? What trouble will Roth and I cause my father? This is the end mellon nin."

Just then a noise down the hall alerted the two to the return of the marshal and he was shoving before him a more than obviously weakened being. At first glance Aragorn knew it was Roth, but it took Legolas a moment. He had never seen his friend this distraught. If he had passed the other Elf in the street he would have never known it was he.

Roth saw Legolas ahead, in the other cell and his heart lightened a little. The man came and shoved Rothinzil in roughly, causing the midnight haired Elf to stumble into Legolas, who caught him quickly before his friend and near brother could fall. The green-eyed man then said, "I am going to shut the door so they can't escape. Are you going to stay the night with them or do you want out?" He asked as though it was only out of habit and he honestly did not expect the answer the human gave.

"I am staying. After you get through locking us in, I believe I asked for them to be fed. I myself am not hungry." Aragorn gave the other man a stern look.

The constable threw his hands up in the air and said, "what do you think this is, a half way house?" But he did not wish to see this strange wild like man that was unknown as he had again. He thought that this strange mortal acted like some sort of Elf-lord when he was angry and a fell light came into the ranger's eyes and spilled across its victim like ice. The very recall of the burning eyes he had seen sent chills down his spine.

Aragorn turned and looked at Roth. The Elf allowed half of a pale and nearly lifeless smile to play on his lips before quickly fading. His back and ribs were burning and he felt so very tired. Legolas just put his arms around his elven friend and guided him to sit on the pile of straw in the back of the cell. Roth was so eager to sit and relax that the younger Elf flopped into the straw.

Legolas looked at Roth and asked, "are you going to be well Rothinzil?"

Roth shivered and said, "I am now. When they came back to get me, I was so worried they were going to do it again." He closed his eyes and lay back against the wall. Legolas helped to guide his friend back as best as he could with shackled hands, for fear Roth would bang his head on the stone in his haste to let his neck muscles and aching headrest.

Legolas looked at Rothinzil's trembling frame and knew exactly what had happened. Well, that was not totally true...he wanted to know more. Aragorn and Legolas' eyes connected and the ranger saw the anger that glittered behind the seemingly bright and shatter resistant gaze of his blonde haired friend. Roth was going through more than he could imagine and fathom, even if he knew all of the raven-haired Elf's history.

As Legolas examine further he saw the blood on his friend's wrist and the gashes inflicted from Roth's weight being thrown against the metal edges of the iron shackles that had been cruelly tight to start with. Legolas felt his blood pressure shoot up another five notches and he feared that he might explode. Nobody should have that happen to them. His own cuffs hurt, but he could bear them. However, the prince was sure that Roth's were a torment.

He began to work them, trying to loosen them, but they were not like rope and it only made them rub against the lacerated skin even more. Roth hissed against the pain and he said, "leave it Legolas, please by the Valar leave it."

Legolas looked at Roth and said, "what all did they do to you? How long did this last?" His eyes narrowed and he said, "tell me."

Roth went a shade paler and he shuddered violently before saying. "They flogged me Legolas. They gave me thirty lashes... because they wanted too and I can still see their cruel eyes and the fear behind them that must have drove them on." Legolas could feel himself quake with compassion for his friend and the pain he was in. The prince knew well what hateful eyes looked like as you were being tortured.

Through clenched teeth, the blonde Elf said, "why did they even do it? They had to have some sort of reason to get away with it legally..."

Aragorn had been listening and shouted bitterly as though the words left a metallic taste, like blood in his mouth, "they caught him talking to a child and took it as an attack on the boy because they wished to rip Roth apart anyway! Then they accused him of attempted escape to give him fifteen more! Thirty merciless lashes all together! THIRTY!" The ranger was beyond controlling his anger.

Legolas sat by his friend and he said, "well that isn't going to happen again. So don't worry about it. When the man comes back we will ask for water so I can tend to your wounds." Legolas actually thought it would be better if Aragorn did it. He had his hands free and Rothinzil trusted the ranger with his life.

Rothinzil leaned back against the wall gingerly and said, "I wish to rest Legolas." After the beating he had taken he felt like strength was drained and everything hurt. His lungs too, burned from holding his breath. He also was ashamed because though he had not cried he had screamed towards the end. He was not able to take the pain anymore and he had screamed to the men's utter pleasure. It hurt and he wanted to cry his eyes out. But he wanted Legolas to think he was strong. What Roth did not realize was that his prince would understand.

Legolas sighed. If Roth went to sleep before he ate he would never eat and he would get sick from emotional trauma. Legolas knew he had to stay awake and he said, "I am sorry Roth, but you have to stay with us until you eat something and Strider has seen to your wounds."

Roth said softly and with a yawn, "I can't keep my eyes open. They want to close and are so heavy." He wanted only to retreat to the refuge of thoughtless sleep.

Legolas knew that Roth would nightmares if he went to sleep right away. He had to keep Rothinzil awake. Then he recalled the story he had wanted to tell him and he gave a swift smile. "Remember the story I was going to tell you Roth?" he asked his weary friend quickly.

Roth opened a single eye to meet his prince's. "Sure. Are you going to tell me it now?" he asked quickly, unable to keep the excitement out of his voice.

Legolas laughed and said, "I know how much you love stories, so perhaps it will keep you awake." It was odd how he as going to use it to try and get the other to sleep earlier.

Aragorn listened to the prince embarking on the tales of Beleg and Túrin of Turambar. The ranger knew them well, so he did not listen. As much as he too loved stories he was too unhappy and emotionally weary to listen and enjoy it. Beleg had died trying to free his friend, by the hand of his friend. It was a sad tale and Aragorn did not care to hear it now. He wanted to concentrate on trying to find a way to prove Legolas' innocence and Roth's as well.

Where was that dratted constable! Aragorn was more than ready to spit nails with frustration.

As he looked out the small grate of the tiny window and into the darkness he sighed with fear. He knew deep inside his heart that it was Legolas's turn to have the worst, but he did not know when or where. But something told him it would not be in an expected way.

Not that that would surprise him, Legolas always managed to find trouble in odd ways.

"Glorfindel!" seethed Elladan bitterly and with anger chilling his voice. "Why in all of Arda would you do that?" Elladan could not believe that Glorfindel would have let Estel go without so much as word o him. As though it was not like he had enough to worry about already. Elrohir was still not in the best of shape.

"He is growing up Elladan, and you know it! You can't prevent him from making his own choices!" Glorfindel growled back over the howling wind that was laced with flawless snow. He should have known that this would happen because of Elladan's over protectiveness. As he looked at Elrohir he could see the younger and more intellectual of the twins was torn between the two choices.

Elrohir had known that his younger brother would grow up, and yet he was hoping it would take longer. Yet he had to face the fact that Aragorn was not an Elf and grew up faster. How much it felt like only two years or so ago that they had brought the young edain home with them to be their brother. Why did it have to end so soon? Being Elves, the brothers did not weary of things very quickly, they just were not as hasty as men were.

He did not want Estel to leave so abruptly. After all, neither of the brothers may ever see him again.

Elladan snapped at Glorfindel as he crouched by his pale brother, "do you know what trouble he could get into in this weather alone? He could die Glorfindel!" To say Elladan was angry enough to strangle the Gondolin lord and enjoy every minute was a severe understatement.

Glorfindel was not oblivious tot he fact and was careful in what he said. "I know Elladan, but you have to understand Elladan. He is getting old enough to leave the nest and preventing it will only serve to weaken him. Sometimes the best thing to do is let go!"

Elladan sighed and rumbled something totally inaudible as he began to try and iron out the facts or rather try to understand what he did not wish to and what was already obvious. To him, an immortal Elf, it seemed that this was the first time, time had seemed to fly by and actually touch him. He felt his age and it unnerved him. Estel was still a small boy chasing him around with a wooden sword, right? He still needed protection from the world, right? Of course. After all Estel was only twenty-two. It was then Elladan remembered: Estel was mortal and was not going to stay the same forever. That fact made him sick. He did not want to say good bye after such a short time together.

"Glorfindel, I know you did what you thought best but if he dies, I swear, you will regret it." He had never seriously threatened the Gondolin Elf before, but this was different. Elrohir looked at his elder brother with a frown and his eyes spoke his thoughts. Elladan was mad, Elladan needed to pause and count to ten.

The snow continued to blow around them and the pass was nearly blocked. Dark clouds threatened more snow and ice. Elrohir looked at his twin and said, "Elladan I cannot believe that you just did that! What would father say?" Elrohir was more gentle in nature and he was not the type to threaten his elders unless it was in jest or he was furious beyond reason.

Elladan just frowned, "the thought of Estel out there, in that freezing snow makes me sick with fear for him Elrohir. Do you not care?" Elladan did not realize he had just set a spark in some dry and frail straw.

Elrohir was not about to be accused of loving his brother less and lashed out at Elladan with a vengeance, "Elladan what are you implying! That I love him less? How dare you even think that!"

Glorfindel scowled and shouted to them both, "he is out there! That is a fact that nothing is going to change. Now either we get home and then go and look for him after we get more supplies, or we go on from here, garner your father's wrath more than we already have and starve!"

The twins looked at each other and then they both glared at Glorfindel. The golden-haired Elf just frowned and said with a sigh of frustration, "don't tell me you both are out for my blood now?" He was really getting tired of this. Why didn't he just refuse to go and stay home _warm, dry **and **safe? _Did he really like being in danger, or was he just slowly going mad from knowing the twins so long? Inwardly shaking his head, he said, "we are going back and taking action from there."

Elladan just sighed and then his scowl deepened to a dark and dangerous look. Thickly he said, "fine." Elrohir looked at Elladan as his brother began to walk away towards home. He guided his near frozen horse behind him, knowing the creature's feet had to be sore and the hooves ready to split.

"Elladan?" asked Elrohir in a small voice as he had once when he had twisted his ankle when they had engaged in a fight and Elladan had left him behind. He did not want Elladan angry with him, anyway, what had he done to garner this anger?

"Elrohir come on!" snapped Elladan harshly and for a moment only forgetting his twin's wound in his anxiousness for his human brother. As soon as he remembered he ran back and Elrohir gave a thin smile. "I am so sorry Elrohir! I forgot!"

Elrohir shook his head and chided gently, "you are taking on the weight of the world again Elladan."

Glorfindel came up and said, "I will help him Elladan, if you wish to be alone and think, we will understand." Glorfindel gave Elrohir a hand up and Elrohir stumbled to his feet, ready to continue. None of them were using their horses, for fear the animal's hooves would be split from the cold. Though they had shoes, it was cold and perhaps they should have had newer ones on, but they didn't.

Elladan hesitated and Elrohir smiled, "I will be fine. By all means, be like Legolas, find a tree and talk to it!" he teased. "Is that not what he does when he is angry or frustrated?" He knew that Elladan thought that talking to trees was the most stupid thing in the world besides finding enjoyment in it. He was not a Woodland Elf and tree talking, in his opinion, was a waste of time. Anyway, even if he had wanted to, this was the rocky portion of the mountains and there were not trees save a few old and twisted pines that he had heard from Legolas were more than hostile.

"Elrohir I don't talk to trees! And anyway when you see a tree worth talking to you can show me how!" He apparently was not in the mood for a joke and Elrohir just sighed.

**TBC...Well, now of course we are going to ask the notorious question...what do you think of it so far? Worse than you thought it would be or better? Drop a review in for us, please? We love them so much and they really do help and encourage. -both grin We know the summary doesn't fit the story yet, but just wait! **

**And a special thanks to all those who have us on their author alert lists or favorites. :) -giggles- it is so awesome! **

**-Review Responses- :) **

**Deana: **Hehehehe. But of course!

**Snow Glory: **You felt sorry for him this past chapter...We bet the new one was really depressing (for him). Roth...manage to get out? Hehehehe. He wishes, but right now he is in a room under lock and key surrounded by lasers and more or less unable to move. "Nope", --pats poor Elf that is attempting to struggle- "Sorry. Your turn to get the snot knocked out of you after and perhaps before your best friends." Aren't we cruel? LOL Yeah, he can be tough when he has to and being alone he can handle...some, but...well...-mad laughter- Now if we told you what they were going to do to our Elf how can we leave evil cliffies? Nice try (again) but we aren't telling. We applaud your effort. :) And yes, the poor ranger. Wait until later in the story. What is going on now will seem like a picnic in the park! LOL

**Marie Delcore: **Hello mellon nin! LOL I think everyone would vomit! –g- I will talk to you more at lunch!

**Astievia: **Yes! They are great lyrics, huh? Love their stuff! No, our ranger can't freeze, but we can try and make him! LOL. And you thought it was bad for Rothinzil in the last chapter. –pair of authoresses shiver-

**Thanks for all the reviews and please give us more! We love them so much and it means a lot to us! Thanks a million you guys:) **


	6. The Price of Love

_**CHAPTER SIX**_

_The Price of Love_

Rothinzil was only partially awake after Legolas was finished telling the ending of Beleg's life when the constable arrived with their food. Legolas noticed it did have steam, so at least it was hot. That was always a bonus to having a full stomach. Strangely Legolas did not feel hungry.

The man hurriedly handed the food to Aragorn, who took the tray with the bowls and set it on the ground by Legolas' feet. Then he asked or rather demanded for clean water to cleanse Roth's wounds. "He is in a lot of pain from the wrongful and unlawful beating he received at the hands of your men. I am going to treat his wounds but I need cloth and water to do it."

The man said, "too bad, Nothing my men do is unlawful and you can stake your life on that. If they said the Elf whelp deserved it, I trust them."

It was too bad for the man that he had not put the door between himself and the ranger. Aragorn grabbed his tunic front and shoved the man against the wall roughly. "I would rather not trust my life on it, as I know this Elf and he would never do anything to reap thirty lashes!" The deadly flame in the ranger's eyes served as a good reason for the man to do as he was asked.

It was odd how this young ranger, that was thin and certainly weaker than he had more control over him. The ranger was like a bloody Elf when he was angry. "I will get the water and cloth, but you had better watch yourself ranger!" he spat and jerked himself free of Aragorn's grasp, but only, he noticed, because the younger man let him.

Aragorn went to Legolas and saw that already had Roth awake and was handing him the bowl with its contents, some form of soup. Legolas did not ask what was in it and he didn't try to figure it out. He had not been hungry before, but he definitely wasn't now. It utterly turned his stomach and he felt it doing flips.

However, he was going to make Roth eat. The younger Elf's condition would only deteriorate if he did not get any energy to go on and replace the energy he had lost. "Roth you have to eat."

Roth looked at the strange stew and suddenly turned away, "Legolas, I am going to be sick." His stomach felt so ill he did not want any food in him now. He began to shiver and Aragorn looked at Legolas and Legolas looked back, their eyes connecting. This was the answer they were expecting.

Legolas tried again gently, "you have to try. If it turns out you can't keep it down you can eat some more later."

Roth mumbled, "no, thank you." He lay back and curled into a ball. Legolas noticed the sweat on his forehead and he carefully brushed some of Roth's hair away from his sticky skin. He was angry. It was tragic that this should have happened. Damn it! Roth was a mess. Legolas did not think they had broken his friend, it would take more than that, but they had done a lot of damage.

"Rothinzil, I know you feel like your insides are turned inside out, but if you do not eat you will get weaker." Legolas was afraid for his friend. He would have rather had this happen to himself, he knew how to deal with it, but Roth was too innocent of heart and this was torment beyond anyone's knowledge.

Roth got up and sat on the straw, trying to stay off the cold floor. He shivered one last time and said, "Legolas, I am not hungry!" However, he really was, but the food just did not look like something he would like to eat.

Legolas appeared to have not heard and taking a spoonful of soup, he blew on it to cool it and put it to Roth's mouth. "Open up," he said flatly. Roth raised a brow and looked at Legolas to see if the blonde Elf was joking and Legolas raised one of his to match.

"Legolas this is not-" in came the stew. Roth was taken by surprise and swallowed before he even thought about it. It did not taste all that horrible, but the texture left much to be desired. It had a spicy taste that actually was kind of pleasant and it was hot. Legolas smiled as he watched Roth's face.

"Not hungry, huh?" he said with a grin. Roth shook his head and took the bowl from Legolas' hands. Now that he had tasted the food, he wanted more.

He smiled and said, "when did I say anything resembling that?" The raven-haired Elf then took and downed another steaming spoonful. He smiled and said after a moment, "it's not half bad."

Legolas just smiled and said, "good, eat it all."

Aragorn looked at Legolas and said, "why aren't you eating yours?" He tried to keep a smile off his lips but it was an uphill battle he soon lost.

Legolas just shrugged and said, "I am not hungry. I will eat it later." He drew his knees up to his chin as he sat and rested his head on them. This place was wearing on his heart. Its dankness, and the darkness that was creeping about them. He was frightened and that was disturbing. The Elf then raised both of his brows and asked, "do you want some then?"

Aragorn's smile broadened and he muttered, "Legolas do not make me force you. I will."

Legolas gave a snort and said, "you can't make me! I won't let you!" He gave a chuckle as the human frowned and said with total nonchalance,

"you are just asking for me to prove you wrong Legolas." The prince made no move for his soup and watched the human from the corners of his eyes. Aragorn wouldn't dare. "Legolas, do I have to make you in front of Roth? It would be a rather ugly episode, no?"

Legolas closed his eyes and smiled as he shut them. He knew he was inviting trouble, but he was beyond caring. Let the man try, he would show him for certain. He was not worried about being jumped by the man, after all, would he not hear the mortal before he sprang? Of course he would!

Legolas let his breathing relax and was nearly asleep when the young Dúnadan leaped on the blonde immortal, not enough to seriously harm the Elf, but enough to hurt his pride. Legolas gave a curt cry and Aragorn laughed as the Elf looked at him in shock. "Are you going to eat? Or do I have to demonstrate my capabilities further?"

Legolas just snapped, "how did you do that?" H stood up after the ranger released the Elf of the grip he had on the prince's tunic collar. Legolas brushed straw from his clothes and glared fire at the man who was smiling,. Legolas just snapped further, "what are you smiling about? I see nothing funny about this!"

"Elrohir taught me that," he said with a gin that was lopsided and Legolas felt it was also rather ill-conceived.

The prince muttered roughly, "that figures! When I get a hold of him I'll teach him something!"

Aragorn asked, "are you going to eat?"

Legolas just scowled deeper and said, "if you insist!" He was still picking straw out of his golden hair.

The young man laughed and said, "good, because I do." He picked up the bowl and handed it to the prince. "You are lucky. It is still hot." Legolas jerked the bowl from the human's hands with a snort of contempt.

"If you were not my friend I tell you truly you would be dead!" he said around a mouthful of hot stew that tasted so good and he was actually somewhat glad he had decided to eat. But the fact that Aragorn was not disturbed him and he said, "so my friend, where is yours? Coming perhaps? Oh! I know! You aren't hungry either!" If Aragorn had made him eat he could not resist the prospect to return the benefaction.

Aragorn knew this was in no mood to play the prince's game. He said back, "I have Lembas bread and that is good enough." He wasn't really hungry and he wasn't the one who needed to save his strength, was he?

Legolas looked at his friend and bit his upper lip before saying with a frown, "incase you have forgotten you are a ranger, a _human_ ranger. The cold is going to take a heavy toll on you if you do not eat enough. Just be careful."

Aragorn was surprised that Legolas was not arguing with him and he watched the Elf curiously. Something was not all right. Legolas was not the type to pass up a chance to argue with his best friend in friendly jest. He knew these signs, he decided at length. Legolas was tired. He was acting like he had had the life beaten out of him and yet there was no evidence to support the conclusion.

Then he saw it, the gash in the prince's arm. It did not appear to run too deep or be infected, but all the same it looked ugly even if it wasn't. Aragorn said abruptly, "Legolas!" The Elf nearly jumped at the sound of his name being spoken so quickly and harshly. He sensed anger in it.

"What?" he snapped back with a flash of hot silver in his eyes that showed he was ready to do battle. He knew he sounded sharp, but he was beyond caring. This was place was making even breathing feel like a burden, because he felt hated, because it was dark, because it was dank...because the light of trees and stars were gone.

"Your arm!" Said the young ranger rather fiercely. He could not believe that Legolas had just forgotten about that. Actually, he could, because he knew exactly how Legolas would react to any wound he received that did not put him at Death's Door. In all fairness, Legolas could be _ringing the bell_ on Death's Door and act like he had no more than a slight scratch or bruise.

Legolas looked at his arm and he said, "well, right now there are more important things than my arm! Roth is hurt, it is no more than a mere scratch and I will not let you see it until you have seen to Rothinzil!" He pulled his arm close and cradled it by his body. Now that he did remember it, it did hurt. It was smarting with requital and he would rather that it had remained forgotten.

Aragorn looked at his friend and he said quietly and serenely so as not to provoke another argument, "I will tend to him first then look at your arm, alright? Now settle down."

Rothinzil, who had been quietly watching after managing to drink the last of his soup said, "no you won't! See to Legolas first! I refuse to be put before my prince!"

Aragorn sighed and closed his eyes to ward off screams of frustration. Elves. They were impossible. Utterly stubborn and completely hopeless! He was about to take and strangle Rothinzil with his bare hands but Legolas relieved the situation.

Staring at the dark-haired Elf, Legolas said, "Roth can you ever just think of me as your **_friend_**?"

Roth said back, "I do, but you are my prince and I have to lookout for you as captain of the 1st guard of Mirkwood. What would your father say?"

Legolas rolled his eyes, "that doesn't matter. He is not here, I am and I say that you are acting silly and rather annoying! I command you to let Strider see to your wounds first!" The prince then watched as Roth's face darkened and his hazel eyes flashed a bit more bright green than Legolas liked seeing.

"Legolas," whined Roth, "you are being unfair! I do not think it is very dignified for an Elven Prince to use his position of power to get what he wants!"

Aragorn finally could take this no longer. If they had been doing it quietly, he might not have minded, but they were nearly shouting at each other. "Roth, I am going to see to your wounds first! And you will keep quiet and let me. Legolas, you are next whether or not you think it is severe enough!"

Both of the Elves fixed a mutinous glared on Aragorn and things might have gotten ugly, but the man returned, carrying a bucket of water and some ripped pieces of cloth.

Aragorn took the bucket and bandages quickly from the jailer, who was keeping a careful eye on the two prisoners. Legolas was glaring ice picks back and Roth was not looking at the man. He had not really wanted to meet anyone's eyes. The raven-haired Elf still felt horribly ashamed. He had screamed and he could not change that.

Roth sighed as he lay upon his stomach on top of Aragorn's spread out cloak. They had carefully pealed his tattered tunic from his back to reveal the horrible whip welts and bruises that were turning black and blue. Straw was under the cloak to prevent the younger Elf's ribs from hitting the stony floor as they were throbbing enough already.

Legolas noticed with distress that Roth's face was pale and his breathing was raspy in his misery. No being should have to suffer this, none on earth except perhaps servants of Mordor and doers of evil. Legolas had carefully shifted Roth's dirtied and tangled hair from the lacerations to keep it from interfering.

Legolas was glad that Rothinzil was putting a brave face on things. Roth looked up at Legolas and said sardonically, "Legolas, I think we should come back here for a holiday sometime."

Legolas smiled thinly back down and said, "how about we not and say we did."

Roth then recalled how it was drawing up to the day of the Winter Solstice. "We are going to be here on a holiday anyway." He dark-haired Elf snorted and drew a deep breath.

Aragorn took and dipped one of the three pieces of cloth that had been brought to them into the bucket of water. It was icy cold and he might have expected as much. This was not going to be pleasant and wouldn't have been under good circumstances. But anger flared up within the man as he thought of the pain that Roth was going to have to experience just to be healed.

He said softly, "Roth I am going to get them wet now so don't be surprised if they begin to really smart." Taking the cloth he wrung it out over the welts and jagged cuts that were already red and inflamed around the edges.

The water seemed to fall as though in slow motion in droplets of crystal before the prince's eyes. Rothinzil jerked slightly but not a sound, even a hiss, escaped him. Legolas watched as blood ran off the wounds, crimson and staining.

Aragorn watched as the blood ran onto his cloak to stain it. His cloak was stained with Rothinzil's blood as he felt his hands were. If he would have been quicker, if he would have stayed with them, he could have saved them.

Gently, the man folded the cloth up and began to carefully pat the wounds and cleanse them of any dried and caked blood that had not rinsed away. Roth just shifted uncomfortably under the attention and under the pain. He knew that Aragorn was trying to be as gentle as possible, but it still hurt.

However, it was hurting him in thought as well. A man had inflicted his wounds and now his wounds were stinging again. Though he trusted Aragorn, it was Legolas who had called him from the dark and bid his eyes to lift from the floor where they had been held for so long in shame of his difference and in fear of those who loved him.

He looked at Legolas and they connected eyes for a brief moment.

In those bright hazel eyes Legolas saw Roth's soul. Rothinzil was recalling things that Legolas did not know and remembering places the prince had never walked...seeing faces that Legolas had never seen and never would for they were dead. Legolas turned his head away and diverted his attention else where.

Roth just sighed and said in a shivery breath, "Thank you Strider." Then he said with a weak smile, "I know you tried to get here, don't blame yourself." Roth's voice then turned biter, only whether it was bitter towards himself or to the men of the town he did not know. "I should have known not to even try to talk with anyone."

Aragorn stated softly, "now you blame yourself unjustly." Roth opened his eyes and shifted his gaze up to the man stooped over him with the cloth, gently massaging his wounds. Aragorn said with a sigh, "you could not have helped it."

Roth seemed to read the young Dúnadan's heart. He said in a thoughtful quiet voice as he diverted his eyes to the soft cloak he was lying on, "neither could you."

Aragorn shook his head, "that is not true. If I would have stayed with you-" Legolas looked at Aragorn and his eyes plainly said he held the ranger blameless.

Roth rolled over onto his side and gripped Aragorn's hand. "It is because of you now I am being healed. Your name is Estel, that is _'Hope_', well you have given me my share of it, Estel."

Aragorn looked away and said no more. He did not know what to say. Legolas just looked at Rothinzil. Rothinzil had made Aragorn think beyond his guilt, he had brought back the reality of the situation. That was something people often tended to over look or exaggerate.

Roth laid back on his stomach and closed his eyes as Aragorn began to wipe his wounds clean again. Roth noticed however, that the sting of the wounds was carrying more of a bite. Aragorn, in frustration with himself was rubbing them harder than he had been earlier.

Rothinzil said nothing of it however, and just set his jaw against the want to hiss. Aragorn had enough to think about.

Legolas just watched his mortal friend carefully cleaning the raven-haired Elf's back. Roth's eyes were closed now and a peaceful look was coming across his pale face. Legolas hoped that Rothinzil was drifting into sleep.

But Legolas noted the temperature. Elves did not feel the cold that much, but Roth was shirtless and he had human blood in his veins. Legolas began to wonder whether Roth had made the decision to be mortal in immortal. That would certainly have an effect on how he felt cold, but since Rothinzil was not shivering he guessed that his friend was immortal and was relieved. He knew that Aragorn was going to die and that twins could not stay forever.

Legolas was afraid to be alone. Chances were that his father would sail, but Legolas had never really given it much thought. He was a Woodland Elf and his heart was with the trees. If Roth choose to be immortal he knew that the other Elf would never leave his side. Legolas knew he would never be alone.

Even though it sounded selfish that was how Legolas felt. For Elves nothing was worse than being alone and watching their friends and the world pass them by.

It was about an hour later and Rothinzil was sleeping on top of the cloak still on his stomach. He was more weary than either of the friends could have guessed. Legolas had taken his cloak and draped it over his friend to help stave off the winter chill. He watched through a cloud of his own breath as Roth's back steadily rose and fell. Looking at Aragorn he said softly and in a low voice, "he sleeps."

Aragorn nodded and said, "now for your wound." Legolas did not argue as the human reached his hand out as though saying, 'give me your arm and don't make a scene.'

The prince walked over by Aragorn and took a seat on the ground before his friend that he very easily trusted with his life, much less his arm. Actually, if he lost his arm, he would loose his life. Archery was his favorite past time and was what his chief protection was. If he could not do archery, his spirit would recoil and he would die or be forced to sail.

Aragorn gently took and rolled up the sleeve of the tunic. Legolas hissed and the man looked at him with a single dark eyebrow raised nearly into his hair. "Legolas, come on my friend, Roth made less noise."

Legolas snorted, "he never made a sound."

Aragorn looked at it and asked with a sigh as he took up a cloth to cleanse the wound, "dare I ask where you managed to find this?"

Legolas said, "I wouldn't." He would never tell the man anyway. It was because he had fallen out of a tree. A _Wood Elf_ had fallen out of a tree.

Aragorn looked at it and his curiosity peeked, "I guess I will be daring and ask: where did you get it?" He gently began to wipe the blood from it. Fresh blood replaced the old with a brightness that was astonishingly so. Aragorn did not want his friend to bleed to death and he put the cloth back on the wound, gently pressing.

Legolas answered the ranger quickly; "I refuse to tell you!" He would never live it down. And what if the twins or Glorfindel found out? His life would be miserable for at least fifteen years! This could not happen...

Aragorn looked at Legolas and saw embarrassment flickering in the Elf's azure eyes. The man gave a curt laugh and Legolas looked at him, "what?" he snapped.

Aragorn just laughed again and said, "you fell out of a tree or something of that nature didn't you?" He jolted Legolas' arm accidentally as he laughed and the Elf was more than irate about it.

"You are hurting my arm!" he growled more out of self-consciousness and abashment than anger and pain. In fact, it hurt very little.

Aragorn just laughed, "very well." The ranger winked, "you never fell out of a tree," he finished with another chuckle that he could not withhold.

Legolas said with a rumble of alight anger and aggravation, "you say that now but the first time you need to buy yourself free from Elladan or Elrohir's grasp you will tell them, I am sure." Aragorn snorted loudly in an effort to avoid laughing, but it was a failure. Legolas rolled his eyes and said, "I see nothing funny about this!" Then he looked at Roth's sleeping form. "And if you wake Rothinzil up now I will never forgive you for it!" he hissed venomously. The blonde Elf glared in the direction of his resting friend, "I think the blood of men in his veins must be the reason he is a bit grumpy to wake up."

Aragorn looked at Legolas and said, "that is supposed to mean what?"

Legolas was not in the mood to banter now and he said candidly, "it means you are a grump in the morning!"

A heavy silence hung in the air and Aragorn did not like it. It was eerie and challenging. The young man finally broke the silence, "Legolas, tell me all that happened before I came here. I want to know exactly what we are up against or else it will be really hard to save both you and Rothinzil's lives."

Legolas gave a slight hiss as the cloth was removed from his wound and as he looked down he saw the bleeding had stopped. "Roth and I were on our way home. We...I...had problem's traveling...we decided to stay with these men, and around them was a herd of horses. It seemed safe enough and my wound was-"

Aragorn interrupted, "Legolas I told you, you were too weak to travel!"

Legolas glared and said, "that is not the point! Are you going to listen or criticize?" Aragorn held up the dry cloth and began to fold it to bind the wound with. Legolas frowned and said, "I am not sure what happened, but they tried to capture us. The one, Calmir, he wanted to get his hands on Roth and I so badly that it give me chills to think of it. But this man's father said no, and I do not know what happened exactly. He killed his father or some of his friends did it and apparently the horses were stolen as well."

"We were brought down by hounds and taken here where we were humiliated and treated cruelly and still are, but it is better now thanks to you."

Aragorn finished wrapping the wound and pulled the sleeve back down over it. "We need answers and I am going to get us some, but I am going to have to leave you now to do it. I will try to be back before dark. I know how much you hate it in here and other such places after dark." He brushed some dark, wavy locks from his eyes and finished, "it will all be well, I promise."

Legolas smiled, "I know it will. I trust you." He frowned and scooted closer to the wall. The Elf let his head go back against the wall and sighed. "If you are going to get back before dark you had better get going."

Ten minutes had passed and Legolas had found he could get no rest. He just was unable to sleep in this dreary place. His sharp ears picked up the sound of rats and mice scuttling around in the cracks of the walls and along the ceiling in the rafters. It was down right creepy and he did not want to hear anymore. But he could not make it stop.

Without Aragorn in this world of men he was afraid. It was a hard fact that he was loath to admit even to himself, but it was nagging him and he knew it. But Aragorn was going to be coming back some answers and all would be well, right?

A noise in the corridor outside his cell alerted him to some men standing outside of his cell. He pretended to not care about their eerie presence, but he was really alarmed. They came closer and Legolas heard the lock turning. He opened his eyes all the way and shot his head up right. "What is going on?" he asked wildly. "Where is Strider?"

The man, whom he had recognized as the constable that had tried to pick a fight with him earlier, said, "he is out for now, finding answers I believe. Hope he doesn't bite off more than he can chew!"

Legolas snapped quickly as four...five...six men filed in, "why are you here? Who are you?"

The man in the front laughed and it sounded as cold and fear filled as ice grating against metal and as scornful as fire hitting water and hissing in steam. "My name is Kixer. Do not tell me you do not recall me from earlier Elf!"

Legolas said, "regrettably I do!" The man nodded and two placed one of their feet each on Roth's back. The raven-haired Elf woke with a start and hissed as their boots ground into his healing lacerations. Legolas shouted, "have you not done enough to him? Leave him be!"

Kixer came forward and he grasped a handful of Legolas' long golden locks. He pulled the blonde prince to his feet, dragging him though the straw and said, "you are a dead Elf, you just don't know it yet." He looked into Legolas' eyes expecting to see fear, but that Legolas had carefully hid and he was not about to show anyone. He had a mask of defiant anger and loathing.

"You still have not answered one of my questions from earlier," said Legolas with a growl of anger. "Why are you here? I thought you were told to leave me be?" Legolas wrinkled his nose at the stench that came from the man's breath.

The mortal just laughed and said, "we aren't here to hurt you yet Elf, but to give you a warning for your friend's sake."

Legolas felt his heart growing cold and he asked carefully, "Strider?"

The human pulled Legolas closer with his grip tightening on the fair hair and he spat on the floor before saying, "what ever...That man is in danger here. See we figure if he is your friend, he must be in league with you bloody-handed Elves. If you want him to live, I suggest that you get him to leave. You seem to command him enough as it is..."

Legolas gasped, "what? Are you saying I have power over him? I have none! He is free to come and go as he wishes."

The man laughed and said, "Oh! We believe you!" He then shook Legolas so that his head seemed to rattle. "Just make sure he is gone before tomorrow or he won't see another day. Got it Elf? We can't abide possessed men in our town. They are nearly as bad as the warlocks and witches they serve!" He then threw Legolas to the ground and turned to leave.

The prince did not get up, but looked up at the man with burning eyes that were clouded with thunderheads that threatened to strike. But for Aragorn's sake he held his peace. If what he could say would threaten the life of his friend, he would rather be silent.

The other men released Roth and filed out behind Kixer. The man turned back around as his men went past him and said, "don't forget Elf, or it is his life..." Legolas would not forget. Rothinzil just looked at Legolas for a sign of what they were going to do next, but nothing other than bewilderment and frustration marked the prince's face. It seemed that this mess was a dead end that held no escape.

Elladan, Elrohir and Glorfindel stumbled into Rivendell.

Elrond had been pacing near the gates ever since his sons' and Lord Glorfindel's departure. He had hoping every evening and every morning to see them coming back safe.

He knew the snows had closed the mountain passes and some effects of the stormy and evil weather were seen in Rivendell. The snow was close to over three feet deep and though it was more beautiful here than any other place in the world, for snow and seasons never touched Lothlorien's beauty or charm.

However, The Lord of Rivendell was interested in the beauty of his home. It could be the ugliest place on Middle Earth as long as his sons and Glorfindel came back safe.

When he saw his son's and the Gondolin lord come limping back he could not contain his joy and a smile burst across his face. But as he only counted three, the smile flipped upside down and into a dark and dangerous frown. He missed Estel, where was his youngest?

Elladan and Elrohir looked at Glorfindel in a way that plainly stated this was not their idea. Elladan's face was shadowed and he looked like he had not ever agreed with the idea from the start. Elrohir looked numb, as though he knew it had to happen but wished it had not come so soon.

All of their faces were pail and careworn. Glorfindel looked surprisingly serene. Elrond glared at his friend and said in a thick and tightened voice, "what did you do Lord Glorfindel?"

Glorfindel said, "he feared something had befallen Legolas and Rothinzil in the town of Farlost. It was no use denying him the right to go. We could not very easily have gone, we would have ended up the same as them..."

Elrond interrupted pointedly, "if in fact they are there!" He narrowed his eyes and knitted his brows in a way that made Glorfindel uneasy.

The golden-haired Elf-lord said, "but I am sure they are. If anyone can help them it is a man with the courage to stand for what he believes in and the will to carry through. You know that town as few do."

Elrond closed his eyes and said, "leave me for a time Glorfindel. Elladan! Elrohir! Come with me!" Glorfindel just frowned. He understood Elrond, but as much as the raven-haired lord seemed to wish, fate was not going to stop and it was nearing Aragorn's time to leave the nest.

Elrond walked towards the Last Homely House, his sons walked beside him. Elladan and Elrohir had to trot to keep up. He asked them when they were far enough away he was sure that Glorfindel could not hear, "did you two even try to turn Estel aside from the path he chose and followed?"

Elladan looked at his father and said, "he left without a good-bye Ada, he left without a good-bye." Elladan wished he had had a chance to tell Estel how proud of him he was and how he was more worthy to live in Rivendell than many that did.

Elrohir did not say anything. He was deadened and asleep inside. He couldn't feel anything, he could hear his father speaking yet the words were not registering. His will seemed to have split. He wished for Estel to find his path and follow it yet he wanted his foster brother to stay with him forever, in safety. Who would look after him if not his family?

Often Estel had been separated from them, but he had never been parted from them in this extreme weather that could kill an Elf much less a man.

Elrond looked at his sons and said solemnly, "I could have spared you this you know. I thought of it, indeed, I thought of it for a long time. "

Elladan looked at his father curiously and Elrohir nodded quietly. The elder of the two asked, "what is this you speak of Ada?" He was not sure he wanted to know. A lump began to grow steadily in his throat as he awaited Lord Elrond's answer.

"I could have never given you the chance to love Estel and become close to him. I could have hid him from you as I hid Arwen from him for a time." Elrond's voice sounded lifeless...and even cold. They had never heard their father in this manner and it frightened them.

"You could have, but without a little pain nothing is won worth keeping," answered Elrohir in a near whisper. "It is better to be close to someone even for a short time, than to never love at all."

Elrond said with a smile, "that is what I thought at the time, though it seems now a large price for such a short time of joy. He is not Elven and some day will leave us. Even now he treads a dangerous road where none of us can follow, into a place where being and Elf is no advantage and I perceive one will die. My heart forebodes that it will not be Estel, it is not yet his time and in Legolas I see much promise for a bright future, but Rothinzil's road is darkened."

Elladan and Elrohir were silent and then they said, "you are not made at Glorfindel, are you?"

Elrond gave a thin smile and said, "no. He did what I have prepared for, for years and yet could not." Elrond's eyes seemed far away, lost in thought and bittersweet memories. He loved Estel with all his heart as he loved Elladan and Elrohir and even Ancú. He loved Estel for the relationship between them that was that of a father and son, of close friends, and if not only for the memories that he would hold for ages to come though time should decay the world.

Elladan smiled as he watched his father's face, "I take my leave then father."

Elrohir nodded, "and I as well."

Glorfindel sat on his bed with his chin in his hands. He did not think that what he did was wrong, but he wondered still...had he done it for the right reason. He knew it was very easy to do the right thing for the wrong reason or the wrong thing for the right reason.

The Gondolin Elf had not even taken his cloak off. He did not care that the melting snow was damp ad uncomfortable, he did not even feel it. His blue eyes watched the floor and the growing puddle from the snow sliding off his suede boots.

Erestor came and poked his head around the doorway. "Lord Glorfindel?" he asked quietly and in a tone that the golden-haired immortal had never heard before.

Glorfindel swiveled his azure orbs up to see Erestor. The raven-haired counselor was watching him and his eyes looked at the Elf of Gondolin with wonder and sorrow, surprisingly at Glorfindel's depression. He did not particularly like Glorfindel, but it still hurt him to see such a normally optimistic and proud Elf-lord now in such doubt. It made him uncomfortable.

Glorfindel mumbled, "not now Erestor."

Erestor knitted his brow and said in his usual manner, "Glorfindel you are acting like an infant! You did no wrong and Elrond knows that. You should not be so hard on yourself."

Glorfindel bristled at Erestor telling him what to do and said, "Erestor I told you! Not now!" He sighed and said, "do you even realize what I did? If Estel does not return, it is I who prevented Elrond from saying his last good-bye to him! I don't know if I can live with that!"

Erestor came in and said, "you could not have prevented it if you had wanted to. You know as well as I do he is an adult in human years and could have left if he had wished with or without your approval and you know he would have done it." The ebony-haired Elf wrinkled his nose and said, "pray will you stop acting this way? It is beginning to scare me!"

Glorfindel looked up at the counselor with a slight grin and a playful twinkle in his eyes, "you do care Erestor!" The Gondolin Elf laughed and Erestor looked horrified.

"I do not!" he argued in a near shout. "Now wait just a minute!" How could Glorfindel say such a thing? He was not allowed to, he would pay...

Glorfindel just smiled, "so you say Erestor, but why did you come looking for me in the first place? Afraid I was hurt perhaps? Or was it you wanted to help me unpack?"

Erestor frowned: Glorfindel's smile was grating on his nerves. How could Glorfindel be smiling while he was so serious? It wasn't fair in the least. Crossing his arms Erestor said, "if you insist upon knowing I was going to see if you were even in your room so I could get back the book of mine you just had to borrow and have not returned in ten years! Elf-lords (especially ones who can't seem to die) should not be sulking, so I could not help but investigate further!"

Glorfindel looked a bit uncomfortable and he said quietly, "oh." Where had that book gotten to? It must be in his study mixed with his papers and other books. Erestor glared and Glorfindel said, "what? I didn't lose it! It is in my study somewhere!"

Erestor shook his head and said, "as though _that_ narrows it down!" The counselor's dark eyes flickered and he said, "did you ever even bother to _read_ it?"

Glorfindel snorted and said, "of course! Why else would I dare to venture to your study to ask for it?" He then stood up and snapped, "it has not been ten years!"

Erestor just rolled his eyes, "yes it has!"

Glorfindel smiled ad said, "you are mistaken!" He would have never continue to keep a book that long and especially if he thought it would draw Erestor around him. That was like drenching yourself in honey and walking among flowers, yet expecting the bees to ignore you. It was not logical.

Erestor shook his head again, "no, I am not!"

Glorfindel said, "admit it Erestor! You messed up! As a matter of fact I think I returned the book to you some time ago. Are you sure you have not misplaced it?" Then the golden-haired Elf smiled deviously, "it is not becoming of an Elf-lord to accuse another of thievery when he has not checked his own study carefully, nor is it flattering to scold and argue like an old mother hen!"

The two were still arguing over the said book when Elrond came in. When he saw them quarreling for what had to be tenth time in three weeks he drew a long heavy breath and said, "can you too at least pretend to like each other around me? This is really beginning to give me a headache. Do I not have enough to worry about?" he asked with the last of his previously drawn breath. "I suppose I had better send a message to King Thranduil about Legolas, though I hate to tell him. I expect he won't be overly surprised though."

Glorfindel raised a brow and said incredulously about the implied needed delivery of a message, "now? In this weather? Who would go?" Elrohir could not go out into this and Elladan could not possibly go alone. Ancú was down for the count. His newly healed lung was in danger of ripping again.

Elrond looked at the Gondolin Elf and Erestor with raised brows, "I was hoping you two could go. You know well that I cannot send Elladan or Elrohir and Ancú is not allowed to rise for another month." He should have thought of this long ago. If he was lucky, their trip home would be delayed and he would be allowed a little peace. But, no, for that the twins would have to gone as well. Unless he confined them to their beds they would most likely break something or start a quarrel within the hour.

Erestor snorted, "Lord Elrond is that really necessary? I mean, he knows Legolas and if the prince hasn't returned home chances are he knows that his son is in trouble _again._ I doubt he needs a message to tell him that!"

Elrond shook his head and said, "he needs to know that I am doing something about it and he needs to know that Estel is out looking for Legolas and Rothinzil right now. Do you think Rothinzil could have at least made it out of trouble?"

Glorfindel frowned and said, "I honestly doubt it, Rothinzil would have willing stayed with his prince even if he had the chance to escape, which I doubt as well. I have one question, why us? It isn't like Erestor can fight!" He cast a glare at the raven-haired adviser and Erestor all but turned his nose up at the golden haired other.

The counselor snapped tersely, "I can so fight. I wager I can better than you!"

Elrond smiled inwardly. It was going to be rather pleasant being rid of them for a week, hopefully prolonged to a delightful month. "Nevertheless, you two are going to go together and tell King Thranduil all that has transpired."

Glorfindel said in a whine, "why can't one of the warriors go?" He had just gotten back after all. He did not want to travel all the way to Mirkwood this time in all that snow.

Elrond said flatly, "because I told you to and I think it will do you both some good. Who knows, maybe you will come back as _friends_." It was not likely, but there was always that little nagging hope that you could not ignore if you were desperate enough.

Erestor looked at Glorfindel and said, "don't tell me Lord Glorfindel is scared to leave his home again?"

Elrond looked at Erestor with narrowed eyes and asked, "is that really helping things? Remember, you have to travel with him." Erestor just sat on Glorfindel's bed and snorted in protest, but said no more.

As Elrond got up to go Glorfindel said, "I really don't think it is quite fair how you use your power to force me to travel with my worst enemy. Isn't that a little cruel?" Oh yes, it was!

Erestor said, "yes, it is undoubtedly despotic, not to mention extremely cruel..." He actually looked at Glorfindel for help as he was too flustered to think of any more words to say. Elrond felt his lips curving into a smile.

Glorfindel said, "Lord Erestor I think another word describing such abuse of power would be "destructive", particularly to me."

Erestor said, "I agree..."

Elrond nearly took a step back in shock. Erestor agreed with Glorfindel? That was truly amazing. Erestor looked at Elrond and said with a glare, "what is so amusing? I see nothing droll about this!"

Elrond shook his head and said, "it is good to see you two cooperating for once. Though I am not sure (while we stand here speaking of what is fair and what isn't) that two against one is entirely equal either."

Glorfindel frowned, opened his mouth as though to speak and then shut it again with a snap. No words could describe his frustration at the moment, so he just glared as hard as he could and Elrond said in a serious tone, "I m counting on you two." Then the raven haired Elf-lord left, leaving Glorfindel still glaring at the spot he had been standing on moments ago.

Erestor just scowled and said, "I am going to go and pack. You can pack your things. We will meet in the Hall of Fire." He was not looking forward to this trip at all. He gave Glorfindel a hard look and said, "I know you still have _my_ book."

**TBC...Please review. We are getting a wee bit frustrated here.**

**Next post: Monday**

**Review responses:)**

**Deana:** Yeah. Hehehehehe…no kidding.

**Snow Glory:** Roth hurtsies, Lego hurtsies soon to be ranger hurtsies….oops (we didn't say that LOL)! Awwwwwwwww…thanks. Oh yes, we will tell you all. LOL We don't know why they aren't either…but then again we kind of do. –g-.

**Tin:** Bad bad bad! You aren't supposed to do that!

**Please review. Please? Thanks. We stuck ourselves out on a limb to post this chapter!**


	7. When You Thought You Were Losing

_**CHAPTER SEVEN**_

_When You Thought You Were Losing_

It was dusk when the ranger went up to the door of the magistrate of the town of Farlost. He could not help but feel butterflies fluttering about in his stomach as though they were being chased around in a cruel game of tag. As he gripped the brass knocker and knocked he began to wonder if this had been a mistake. It was going to attract people's attention and that was not something that was going to be helpful right about then.

A man opened the door to the house and Aragorn asked in a firm voice that was aided by his urgency, "is the magistrate in? I come on the behalf of two friends of mine."

The man, who was obviously the butler said, "he is, but he is occupied with dinner guests right now." The servant did not like the look of this man. He looked wild and dangerous. Aragorn knew it, but he could not afford to worry about himself so much now. The butler asked warily, "can I take a message to him or would you rather come back later tonight?"

Aragorn persisted, "I need to see him for about two minutes. Please. I am running out of time." He did not care what was thought of him if only he could get his friends out of this mess. As far as the ranger was concerned, his reputation was soiled anyway for even siding with the Elves so why not damage it further?

The butler snapped, "you are running out of time and I out of patience! Give me a message to deliver or leave!"

Aragorn looked at the man and said, "I don't have time for this! My friends are in danger!" He glared lancets at the butler who had no difficulty reflecting them right back.

A deep voice behind the servant said, "let me through! If he wishes to speak to me, he may for what good it will do." An elderly man in body yet seemingly younger in strength and spirit stood before him and he was about the same height as Aragorn, which many men were not. Aragorn watched him for a moment and the man said, "what is it you wish to speak of boy?"

Aragorn frowned and gathered some courage before saying, "I have two friends you are holding in jail, one already beaten for no reason. They did no wrong and are suffering greatly. When are the trail dates and when are they to be released?"

The magistrate met his gaze with scorn and said, "you mean the two Elves. They are not to be released. As a matter of fact, I have already looked at the evidence and have agreed to let the only living family member have his death right towards them. They will be executed tomorrow."

Aragorn did not know what to say. This was all happening to fast and the world seemed to be spinning, or was that his head? He felt numb struck and all he could do was gape. Finally he managed to croak out, "you can't do that! They didn't do it! Please! Give us a chance to prove their innocence! If you were half the man you think you are-"

The magistrate cut Aragorn off and said, "look here. You are wasting our breath. How do you expect to prove them innocent? I will give you one day. If you cannot prove them innocent then they are to be executed the next day! I will say no more." With that he slammed the door on Aragorn and the ranger stared at for a moment.

Now whenever he closed his eyes he saw Legolas, Legolas laughing, Legolas being...well...Legolas. He wanted so much for things to be back to normal. He had never thought this was how his friend would die; yet it seemed this was it.

He had to admit to himself that the evidence was strongly against Legolas and Rothinzil. How could he counter it? He didn't know. As he looked at the snow glittering on the ground, he picked some up and sifted it through his fingers but he did not feel the coldness. A hot fire was burning inside radiantly with the will to save his friends.

Legolas sat by the bars of the cell and Roth was asleep again. Legolas frowned when he thought of how weary Rothinzil was. It was disturbing and he hoped that Roth was not getting too depressed. That too could kill an Elf.

Legolas knew his own body was weakening. The Mirkwood prince was scared and the dark was still pulling his heart down into the depths beyond the rock bottom. He jerked his head up as he heard the sound of boots on the cobblestone. It was a sound he had grown to fear to his private shame. But the way the boots hit the stones made Legolas think more of an Elf than a man and he knew that Aragorn had to be coming back.

At first his heart rejoiced, but his joy soon turned frigid and was extinguished as he recalled the men's threat. He was certain that they would carry it out soon. They had no reason not to and if Legolas was to die he did not want to die knowing that Aragorn had gotten killed trying to prevent it.

Roth woke and stirred a moment before sitting up and shivering. He asked in a quiet whisper, "Legolas, who is it? Who is coming? I heard something in my sleep."

Legolas answered with a slight frown; "Strider has come. It is well. You slept for roughly two hours, you know that?" he teased lightly. However it came across more as a scolding than a jest and Legolas recoiled secretly.

Rothinzil snorted, "I don't see anything else to do here and after what I went through I could sleep for weeks." Legolas gave a chuckle and shook his head. He brushed strands of blonde hair from his face.

Legolas looked at Aragorn as the man came striding up. He was walking fast and Legolas did not like the numb and lifeless look that his friend possessed. It was disquieting and it sent shivers down the blonde prince's spine that chilled his marrow. Something was direly wrong and in moments Legolas would know exactly what it was.

As Aragorn came up he saw that Legolas and Roth looked rather disquieted and so Aragorn knew that they did not know of their planned execution date for the next day, or really the day after. If they did know of it he was certain that Legolas would recoil into his peaceful demeanor and that so would Roth, either that or Rothinzil would go into a rage. But neither of them would act frightened at all. They would not give the town the satisfaction.

As the dark-haired ranger drew nearer, he leaned against the bars of Legolas and Roth's cell, rubbing his temples with his hands in frustration at his lack of fulfillment. Legolas watched for a moment and then sighed heavily, "something is wrong."

Aragorn looked down a the Elf and said, "these are the times I hate it when you are so perceptive of things." He drew a deep breath and then said, "have you hard anything?"

Legolas crinkled his brow and said with concern, "anything about what?" As Legolas said this, Rothinzil got up and walked over to be beside his prince. If something was really wrong, he wanted to know and he wanted to be ready.

Aragorn shook his head and said, "obviously you haven't." He looked at the two Elves and said, "you were scheduled to be executed tomorrow but I was granted one more day to prove you innocent."

Legolas just frowned and said to himself, "it seems that everything is just a day away." He looked at Aragorn with iced over blue eyes. "You have to leave Strider. You are in danger here, grave danger."

The ranger shifted away from the bars and said, "I think not. Legolas I would never abandon you or Rothinzil. I could not bear to have you two die and I gave up. I could never live with you two being dead anyway."

Legolas spoke softly, "I could not bear your death either, which is why I ask you to leave." He turned away from the human as though to say that this conversation was over and he request not up for discussion. Rothinzil looked at his prince and at Aragorn, then turned away.

He was no longer frightened, it was only a matter of time before he died and he had excepted that fact, though it had not come easily. After all he was a fairly young Elf, who was supposed to live forever and now was going to be hanged like a public felon. It was nearly too much and maybe, if it weren't for Legolas's presence he would have broken down already.

Aragorn began to speak, "Legolas...Roth...?..." It was no use, they had made up their minds.

The ranger, however, had not given up. He was going to save them, or die trying. As the dark-haired man walked away from their cell he asked himself how many times he had ever resolved to save them or die trying. It was often enough, concluded the man at length. But he also thought of the times that Legolas had done the very same thing and Roth had always been there no matter how much of a fool he proved to be or how much of a klutz he was.

If he abandoned them now he would regret it forever...and that is a long time.

Walking out it no the night, he looked back and saw that Rothinzil and Legolas were both sitting on the ground, unmoving. It was as though they were already dead.

Legolas looked at Rothinzil as his friend was looking at the wall and moving his lips silently, "what are you doing?" He raised a blonde brow in question and Rothinzil stopped and said somewhat sheepishly,

"Counting bricks. Care to give it a try?" he asked with a grin. He shivered slightly and Legolas felt anger rising again. True, Elves did not feel the cold so much as humans did, but they could still feel it and Rothinzil was shirtless. In truth, Legolas was surprised he was not seeing sanguine by now from his animosity.

Nevertheless, Roth's answer made him give a light and hollow laugh, "interesting. But, no, I do not care to try." He glared then and said, "Roth how cold are you? You are shivering!"

Rothinzil narrowed his eyes and said, "I am not shivering!" He was, but he was not going to admit that! He was an Elf and it would be more than humiliating. However, when Legolas fixed him with a look that was disturbingly enough like one that King Thranduil would give, Roth conceded and mumbled, "I am shivering."

Legolas took the cloak that had been his and wrapped it tighter about his friend. Smiling shallowly, the prince said, "this will all be over tomorrow."

"Yes," said Rothinzil as he returned the weak smile, "I suppose it will." He honestly was wishing it wouldn't be. He had so much he still wanted to do that he had put off because as far as he knew he was immortal and now he would never get to do it.

Legolas then shifted. He was bored and had to think of something other than what tomorrow would bring. "Rothinzil, what happened to you before I found you? After you ran away from the village you were raised in?"

Rothinzil said, "not much. I hardly think it is worth speaking about but if you really wish for me to tell you I will tell you enough for your peace." He drew a deep breath, "I was out in the wild for at least a month. I did not eat, I weathered storms and such. Then you found me and refused to leave me alone or let me be imprisoned for trespassing." Legolas gave a sigh and he frowned,

"I do remember that. It was rather tragic when I saw you. However, all these years I have pondered whether it was you saved me or I saved you. And now I think I know..." He locked his bright azure orbs with Rothinzil's hazel ones and said, "you saved me."

Rothinzil wrinkled his forehead and asked softly, "how so?"

"To save you was to save myself as well, I think," answered the prince at length. "I was grieving over my mother's death and ready to sail, but I was trying to find a reason to stay. Then I found you and I realized that if I rescued you, you would need help and I wanted to be the one to help you. But you opened up my heart. Before you came along I had grown away from my father even. I had built a wall around my essence and armed it with thorns, but you were hurting enough that the pricking of the thorns seemed pleasant compared to everything else I suppose and you never let me alone either." He gave a chuckle. "Eventually I think you broke your way in."

Rothinzil smiled, "So in the end it worked both ways. I saved you and you saved me. The difference with me was you only had to scale a wall that was already crumbling."

Legolas smiled and said ethereally, "in the end." And whatever end they would come to tomorrow, they would never forget how they had saved each other's hearts when all they both had wanted was somebody who had cared.

Both of the Elves could not really see each other anymore. It was night and everything was dark. But they knew that if they looked at one another that the other would be bearing a smile as bright as the sunlight.

Aragorn walked softly through the snowy world that had turned into night. He kicked up bits of snow and slush with his boot toe as he walked the empty streets. It was a bit eerie, but not unlike anything he had ever seen before.

The man let the wind whip his cloak and hood around him and the air bite his face. He had become so hot inside with the want to free his friends that he did not feel the cold. Most would have taken it as an exaggeration, but it was real. The ranger watched the sky, the stars were veiled and everything bleak in the dark, for even the moon was gone to sleep for the night beneath blankets of cloud.

Aragorn sighed and wished that he could see the stars. Raised by Elves, they brought him a new hope that he desperately needed at this hour. He watched the sky for minute longer, before deciding to look at the ground. The snow seemed dull and lifeless as it had no starlight to reflect or moonlight. Had everything died when the Elves were condemned? It seemed so, and perhaps he had died more than just a little.

He wondered if these people, these men, saw the danger of their folly. The Valar would certainly not be pleased with them and their unnecessary cruelty towards the immortals. If they ended Legolas or Rothinzil's life it would be their own death sentence they had also signed in elvish blood.

Aragorn could hear the night watchman crying out he time. It was eleven. Yet, it seemed later with out the light or the Valar in this cursed place. Aragorn wished his brothers were with him, He so desperately wanted guidance, but they were not here. He had run away from them and so in his mind had also abandoned them. He wondered if that was what they thought of him.

But it was his time to go alone. His test, his struggle and he would never ask them to put themselves in danger. Besides, he really wasn't alone, was he? They were part of him. He couldn't feel them by his side, but he knew that in heart they were with him.

Aragorn was so in thought about what he had done wrong and what he could do now to make things right that he did not see an obvious danger.

Calmir watched wit his four men as the ranger paced the streets anxiously. They did not know him, but they did know this, he was close to the Elves and he was very near freeing him though they were sure the other did not know it. Calmir looked at Kushor and said, "if he frees those damn Elves the blame will fall on us and we will be arrested." Calmir shifted his short sword in his hand restlessly. He had killed before and he could do it again. "If I can't have those Elves I want them dead. They are animals anyway."

Kushor nodded by his partner's side. "What about the horses? Where did the men of he town put them?" He pulled his cloak tighter about himself as he felt the icy bite of the wind.

"They rounded them up in the corral just outside of town. We can get them if we hurry and make it to The King's in two more days."

"Not if that man frees those Elves and they get their names cleared," answered Kushor quickly. All of the thieves knew it was only a matter of time.

Calmir drew his sword out and said, "that is why he isn't going to be around to testify for them and they will die tomorrow." The others followed Calmir's example and drew their swords out. The blades glowed with a dull evil in the dark. It was as though they longed to immerse themselves in blood once more.

Aragorn halted, for he could have sworn he had heard the crunch of frozen slush beneath feet. His hearing was greater than that of most men and seldom failed him. He did not make a move like he knew that the noise had been made. He did not want to give himself away yet and by this he kept the element of surprise on his side.

However, he loosened his sword in its sheath beneath the cover of his cloak. The ranger had expected trouble at some point, just not yet. He was not afraid, but the man began to wonder how many there were and if he could go against them all.

He heard the snow crack behind him under a man's weight and he whirled around brandishing his sword and as he did so he looked straight into the steely eyes of Calmir. The other man just gave a ghostly smile and said, "you know it is dangerous for a man to walk after dark. People can get hurt."

Aragorn said, "true, but if you know where the vipers nest you can avoid them." It was meant to goad the man on into making a rushed move that would be easy for Aragorn to counter.

Calmir remained cool and said, "but vipers are masters of trickery. They can strike without you even knowing it and you find yourself flat on your back before you can blink and then it is too late." He took a step towards the ranger and Aragorn remained firm. This unnerved Calmir and he thrust his sword at the dark-haired Elf-friend.

Aragorn blocked the bow and metal clashed upon metal with sharp clangs. In the distance a dog howled and a deadly flame now kindled in Calmir's eyes. Men came three men came from different directions and Calmir grinned coldly, "you are out numbered here Elf-friend! Go away from here or taste death."

Aragorn looked at them and felt his heart beating in his chest; hard and fast as fear sped it up. "No," he managed. Then his voice hardened and held its own touch of ice and steel, "never."

Calmir smiled and said, "don't say I didn't warn you."

Aragorn quickly raised his sword just in time to bock one of the sweeping blows made by Kushor. These men were skilled in fighting and it was a little disturbing.

Calmir aimed his blade for the ranger's middle and the younger man quickly knocked the sword from the other's hand and it spun off into the snow and slid to a stop near an old house that looked as though it had seen enough service and was ready to collapse. Calmir lunged for it but Aragorn grabbed the elder human's cloak and through him down to the ground with his naked blade placed delicately on Calmir's neck.

His victory was short lived when Kushor ran up and struck the ranger with the flat of his sword in the back and Aragorn went down with a cry. Calmir got up and would have killed the young Dúnadan, but that would be too easy.

He pulled Aragorn up by the front of his tunic and then kicked him in the stomach. Aragorn felt hot pain blaze in his abdomen and the urge to throw up tugged at the back of his throat. However, he kept his gaze filled with ice, though it was far more of a challenge than he ever would have thought. Calmir snorted, "not so tough now are you?" He threw the ranger backward into the arms of Kushor and another man.

They gripped the ranger's arms and kept him still as Calmir drew up to stand before Aragorn with an evil grin on his face. "I would kill you, but that would be too good for you Elf-lover!" With that he drew back his fist and slammed it into Aragorn's face, rocketing the young man's head back.

Biting back a cry, the man looked at Calmir with a fierce look of utter defiance. Blood came from the young ranger's mouth in a small trickle. Calmir dealt another blow and it struck Aragorn's defenseless stomach. The younger mortal doubled over as far as the grips on his arms would allow.

Calmir would have beaten the ranger senseless and then killed him, but a shutter banged open and a voice yelled out, "what is going on?" They had been discovered.

Kushor looked at Calmir and said quickly and with a touch of fear in his voice, "we have to go. Leave him."

Calmir nodded and Aragorn was dropped to the ground. The snow felt so good against his swollen face that he welcomed it. But he saw Calmir's boots before his face and he heard the other whisper lethally, "this isn't finished ranger. We will hunt you down."

Aragorn said nothing and listened as the men left in a flurry of flying snow and scuffles of ice against their boots.

Even when he knew they were gone the young man just lay there in the snow and slush. It felt cool on his burning face though it froze the rest of him. He watched as the snow beneath his face turned a disturbing shade or crimson from the blood of his lower lip.

It felt so good just to lay on the ground and he closed his eyes. As he lay there he thought of how he had failed his friends and of all that had transpired that night.

But as Aragorn lay there, it was then he realized what his friends' deliverance could be. It could be found in the obvious. Two Elves could not steal so many horses. Besides that they had no motive. Elven horses are better than the horses of mortals by far, for they can understand the Elven speech. He was also sure that once the magistrate discovered he was dealing with killing an Elven prince whose father could have the town leveled in less than an hour he might be more easily talked into ruling in a favorable way.

Why had he not thought of this earlier? As the man watched the snow he saw it begin to sparkle. The stars had come back out and were adding light out the darkened world. The clouds had passed by and a brilliant light shined down from the celestial bodies. It was so bright and wonderful it made the ranger want to cry. Hope was rekindled and he thought that maybe now they had a chance.

Rising onto his knees, the man wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his sleeve. Then, he sheathed his word, but not before looking at the light of the stars glittering in it like sparks of white flame or rare jewels and pearls.

He thought it unique and more than a little comforting that only in the darkness of night you could see the stars. Otherwise, there light was unlooked for and so did not stand out. He also thought it odd that in the great darkness, they forced one to look up and not at the ground all the time.

As Aragorn began to walk back towards the jail he felt his spirits rising.

Elrohir walked slowly into Elladan's room after taking along nap. His hair was a bit frizzy, but he was in his own home and he was still not feeling the best. As he walked into Elladan's room, he saw that his brother was watching the sun set, as he loved to do. The leaves turned golden and orange in the fading light. "Elladan?" asked Elrohir in a whisper.

Elladan did not answer for a moment and then he said, "He is out there on his own Ro and it makes me sad. He is growing up. He doesn't need us all the time anymore." Elladan promised himself he would not cry, but it was difficult. This time had come too soon and the fact that it had caught him off guard when he had prepared for it for so long in his heart cut into him deeply, it cut so deep it hurt.

Elrohir sighed and went up beside his brother, his own gray eyes looking into the sunset as he spook, "He still needs us."

Elladan drew a deep and labored breath as he fought the urge to grieve, "then why aren't we there?" he asked. It was a question Elrohir had asked himself but had hoped he would not have to confront. It was because of him, his wound; his weakness. It was his weakness that was keeping them from Estel.

Elrohir did not answer and Elladan knew what his brother was thinking. He did not say anything other than, "you need rest 'Ro. Go back to sleep. It is dark now and there is just a bit of purple clinging to the twilight."

Elrohir shook his head and conceded, "for your peace I will go to bed even though I just got up."

Elladan suddenly said over his shoulder as Elrohir turned and was walking wearily out of his room, "Elrohir, it is not your fault. This was the test we had all been waiting for. If you taught that boy half was well as I think you have, he will not fail."

Elrohir just gave a hollow grin, "you had a hand in his training as well, so don't call yourself short Elladan!"

Elladan just gave a short laugh that ended rather abruptly, "yes, well, I was talking about you. But now that you mention it, I did do a rather fine job, did I not?" He turned around and watched as Elrohir spun about to meat his eyes.

"Elladan, I don't know what you are talking about" declared the younger twin with a sarcastic grin. Then he looked a bit weary and lowered his gaze, "but I think I will be going to bed now. Tell Ada good night for me."

Elladan felt his short lived smile fade, "I will. You just get better Elrohir."

Erestor sat in the chair of his study, maps before him. He was studying them earnestly. It had been long since the counselor had dared to venture out of Rivendell and even though Glorfindel may know where they were going he wanted to know it as well incase the Gondolin Elf made an error.

When Glorfindel came in and saw Erestor pulling over old maps and books he said, "oh please! You trust me no better than this?" Seeing Erestor doing this was rather insulting.

Erestor looked at him with a wrinkled brow and said somewhat calmly and in a matter-of-fact voice, "not only that. If something should happen to you (and I am sure it will) I would like to know my way home." He rolled up the map and put it back in the shelf he had taken it from.

He started to put away another and then he narrowed his eyes and held it aloft for Glorfindel to see. It had wrinkles in it where it had obviously been folded. The creases cut through some of the names and made an ugly mess. "By the way Glorfindel, _roll_ the maps, do not fold them!"

Glorfindel snorted and said, "that was what Elladan did when he asked to borrow the map that I borrowed from you!" If this was how Erestor was going to be the whole way to Mirkwood, he did not want to go with him, rather with a pack of cruel orcs and wargs than this pushy Elf that seemed to think he knew all.

Erestor shook his head, "so you say! Is your stuff packed yet? I want an early start tomorrow,"' he said rather quickly as he began to roll the maps and put ledgers away.

Glorfindel leaned against the door-post and said in a quiet voice, "how early?" He certainly did not feel like getting up before the sun and if that was deal, too bad for Erestor.

The raven-haired Elf shifted his glance up at Glorfindel and said, "the sooner the better, around sunrise I would say." The reaction was not unexpected as he saw the golden-haired Elf-lord's jaw drop.

"Leave at dawn or up at dawn?" he asked in a stammer. He was all for an early start, but leaving at dawn would be too much. He doubted if he would be truly awake by then. Also, he figured that Erestor would be rather grumpy. He did not fancy to ride with a grumpy Elf, especially if he was of the same mind.

Erestor snorted and said, "I think leaving at dawn is best. Then we can get a better start and cover more ground before nightfall." He brushed some raven hair out of his face and set a book on top of some others on the side of his desk.

Glorfindel closed his eyes and passed a weary hand over them. No! "Erestor, you are going to bed early then?"

Erestor nodded, "right after I put everything away. And yourself?"

Glorfindel opened one eye and looked between his fingers almost shyly, "as soon as I get over my shock." Now he really needed a cup of good tea and if that did not work he was going to wake Elrond and beg to be drugged. Erestor never went to bed early. He read until around one and still got up early...

Erestor seemed not to notice what was said so the blonde Elf-lord was utterly amazed when the ebony haired Elf said, "you complain too much."

Glorfindel rolled his eyes as he removed his hand from his face and glared at the other. However, he was to in the mood to argue. He stood, watching Erestor arranging books and papers for a moment before asking in a quiet voice, "you don't mean to take all that with you?"

Erestor looked up at the Balrog-Slayer with a frown, "of course not! That would be folly! I may bring a map or two but that is all! However, if I wished to bring more you could not tell me otherwise!"

Glorfindel just shook his head. He honestly had more important things to think about. "Good night Erestor." As the Gondolin Elf left the room he heard a hastily mumbled 'good night' returned and he smiled wryly.

As he left and was heading to his room he felt a hand suddenly grip his shoulder tightly and spin him around. Fears of Dark Elves flashed through his mind as he thought about what had taken place only a few months ago. Then he heard a familiar voice ask in a faint whisper, "Lord Glorfindel where are you going?"

"Ancú? Should you not be resting?" asked Glorfindel in a surprised breath. He had not seen the Elf warrior that was like a son to him since he came back to Rivendell with the twins. At least he knew that the younger immortal was healing well.

Ancú looked at Glorfindel and said, "Glorfindel can't I come with you and Erestor? I am well, Lord Elrond just insists that I stay in bed because I think I get on his nerves from time to time and I think that I should come with you as the Captain of The Guard-"

He was cut short, as Glorfindel said; "No it is winter. Elrohir was having trouble with his wound and his had healed quicker than yours had! A torn lung is not something to be taken lightly and I do not feel like hauling your frozen corpse home. Ancú, if you died I don't think I could bear it."

"You raised me to always fight and never give in and that is what I am going to do," he argued adamantly and with a flash of his hazel eyes that caught the starlight of Rivendell.

Glorfindel snapped back, "Ancú you are not coming. The twins need looking after and lets face it, other than Elrond you are about the only one who can really bully them around." He placed his hands gently but firmly on the dark-haired Elf's shoulders, forcing him to look into his eyes. "Do I not have enough to look after with Erestor coming? He can't have used a sword for near two millennia! I can't be fighting orcs and looking after you and Erestor. You and I both know that would be suicide!"

"Erestor can't even fight, so why should he get to go and I am left behind? Glorfindel-" contended Ancú angrily as he pulled away from the golden-haired Elf's grip.

"Erestor is better at negotiations than you will ever be and that is a fact!" said Glorfindel with a laugh. "You are a warrior and so am I. All it takes to go and deliver a message to Thranduil and talk to the king is a counselor and a warrior to protect the counselor and help him as he needs it. However, if you wish to go, talk to Lord Elrond about it. I certainly do not fancy traveling with Erestor myself."

Ancú turned around to leave and said, "admit it Glorfindel! If anything happened to Erestor that put his life in danger you would never forgive yourself! If he died...you would not be able to bear it!"

Glorfindel chuckled and said, "I admit that having him die would not be exactly what I want, but never forgive myself? Somehow I doubt it." He sighed and said, "Elbereth help me tomorrow and Elbereth help Erestor if he doesn't shut up and let me guide him over the mountains. I am expecting the goblins will be up to mischief and it will be a miracle if one of us is unscathed by the time we get home." He shook his head and smiled at Ancú, "I actually wish that you could come now. That way one could argue and another could keep watch."

Ancú glanced around Glorfindel and down the hall to Erestor's room where the candle was still lit and light was shining out from the doorway. "You do the arguing, I'll do the watching. Or at least that is how I would like it should I go with you and Erestor."

Glorfindel laughed as he began to walk towards his room, "so you would give me the hard part? That is just like you!" he teased gently as he suppressed a yawn. Ancú watched Glorfindel go and he shook his head. For being so much older Glorfindel acted like a young Elf of only two thousand years at times and it was more than a little disturbing. Ancú guessed it came from being reborn or living with the twins, perhaps the both together.

He knew that Glorfindel was a great warrior though and had helped teach the twins and himself. For Glorfindel he had great respect, like that between a father and son. It was Glorfindel who along with help from Erestor and Elrond had raised him as an Elfling.

**_TBC ...so...will you review please? Sorry this was found it fit to punish us for the little story that Tin decided to post. We were not allowed to post until 11-6-04! Grrrrrr...It ws not our fault.Okay...at least not entirely. _**

**_And a late Happy Halloween to you all! –grin- And finally...some ranger hurtsies...as Snow Glory puts it. _**

_**Review responses:)**_

**Deana: **Here it is! LOL Thank you for reviewing.

**Beling: **Yes, that is a frustrating thing to read. Sorry. Thanks for sticking with us! We bow to you! _Beleg and Turin_ are in the Silmarillion and have a full 'chapter' all to themselves. It is a very sad story, one worth reading. It is under the chapter title: Turin of Turambar. Give it a whirl! You can find out even more about their adventures in the _Unfinished Tales. _Thank you so much for reviewing. Your reviews are always so thoughtful.

**Snow Glory: **Well, we are on a lot of author alert list, but hardly hear from anyone. If that explains anything. –insert doubtful snort- Glad you like this story and thanks for reviewing!

**Sabrina: **Awwww...thanks. Another Rothinzil fan! Yay! Glad to hear you are reading the previous one. It is easier to understand that way. But like we said in the disclaimer, not necessarily needed. Thank you for reviewing.

**Leela 74: **-blushes- glad we made your day so special. We feel honored. LOL So you actually can see the character's personalities? Thank you! That is such a high complement. You are too nice! LOL Hope you had a good vacation! Thanks for reviewing.

**elitenschwein** : Wow! Lot of reviews here! Let us see...Oh yay! Someone likes the flashbacks! Ack! Yay! ...next review...Awww...yes, we thought that scene was touching too, glad you caught that.

Aragorn: why would I not? I love getting tortured if the ladies like it! The say it makes me drool worthy. I think it makes me sick.

US: Shut up and go get captured NOW! Or you are fired!

Aragorn: -meekly- sorry...

OH YES! To be on the receiving end of the twin's anger would be scary without a doubt. But we agree, Glorfindel can take it! They hopefully can't be worse than a Balrog...or Lord Elrond...hopefully. You know trees that talk? We aren't alone! LOL...next review...LOL...You love long chapters? We love writing them! –places Aragorn in cage and pokes ticked ranger with a stick- ranger snarls- him? Intimidating? No! He's cute! Would you not agree Legolas? –Legolas runs for the hills- Nevermind...Yes, they are all worried over each other and who is going to eat when. Funny huh? Tin snickers Well actually the men are not evil, just frightened of what they don't understand (again). But they are acting rather evil. They most likely have a dark aura or something of the like. What? The twins pessimistic? Never! Where did you ever get that from? _Rule of thumb dealing with Aragorn and Legolas: assume the worst...always. Trust us and experience...it WILL happen, and it is only a matter of time. _Heartwarming...between Erestor and Glorfindel? Are you crazy? We aren't alone! LOL See, they can be friends...when they have to be, they prefer not to be. But it is possible...we suppose...just like Tin and I. LOL –sounds of intense scuffle- authoresses return straightening hair and clothes. Like we were saying...possible...but "preferred" hardly describes it. LOL

**Nefhiriel:** Hehehehe. Thanks. We try to post everyother day, but thanks to we had posting delays. Although -grin- we kind of had it coming.

**Astievia:** We wanted to post, but wouldn't let us. Do you know how frustrating it was not to be allowed to post?

**Shadowfaxgal: **Thanks for reviewing us, it is really great to hear that people like our story, esp. when we are depressed & angry at for not letting us post, grrr...LOL.

**_Thanks for the many reviews. We love them._**


	8. When you Believe

_**CHAPTER EIGHT**_

_When You Believe _

Aragorn stumbled back into the jail and he went up alongside the bars of Legolas and Rothinzil's prison. Legolas and Roth had been soundly sleeping, Legolas had his head leaning on Rothinzil's shoulder and Roth was pressed up against Legolas for warmth, but both were fast asleep. Aragorn could hear their even and heavy breathing. It made the whole situation almost serene and put his heavily pounding heart at ease to see his friends carefree for a brief period of time.

He was not going to wake them, but Legolas fluttered his eyelids open due to his Elven keeness to noise and through the dim light he squinted at the figure near them, just outside of the cell, which was their only safety zone at the moment. He asked quietly, "Strider?" His voice was damped with sleep; it was practically a yawn.

Aragorn said, "Legolas, it is I. Nothing is wrong. Are you awake then?" he whispered back in the dark.

Legolas answered back as quietly as possible so as not to waken Rothinzil, "yes. I haven't really been sleeping and I sensed your presence. What are you so joyous about?" He felt Roth stirring slightly and he held still for a moment and his breath caught.The other needed sleep and Legolas was about to do anything to let his friend remain lost in dreams.

Aragorn sat down as close to the bars as possible so Legolas could feel he was here and that the he and Roth were not alone. "I can prove you innocent. I have a way." He sounded so assured...exactly the opposite of what Legolas felt. It was also exactly the opposite of what his tone carried.

Legolas' tone of voice suddenly went very cold and he said, "no. You won't! You will be ambushed for certain! They will murder you Estel!" _Does he not understand the urgency, or must he always challenge the Valar like his brothers? _thought the prince antagonistically.

Aragorn gave a wry chuckle and said quietly, "they have already tried." He was not sure that ws something to be laughing at, but it was too late now and anyway, it was rather humorous that they had not succeeded. Or at least, that was how he tired to justify it in his mind. He knew that Legolas' opinion hardly concurred with his own and so he was not surprised to hear a little outburst from the Elven prince.

Legolas did not bother to hold still so that Roth would not wake. He spun around in the dark and grabbed the figure of the ranger by the shoulders. "Did they hurt you? Are you in pain?" he asked imperatively. "Estel! It isn't funny!"

Aragorn was undaunted and said, "they did me no lasting harm Legolas. Calm yourself Son of Thranduil." He gently moved Legolas' hands from his shoulders. As he did the Elf felt the chill of them and he gasped,

"Strider, your hands are like ice. You should be inside, you are not the one being charged with a crime here," pleaded the Elf. He would wager his life that the ranger could not feel his fingers. "You shall get frostbite!" he declared with a twinge of anger.

"I am staying here with you Legolas, mellon nin, you and Roth are not going to go through the night alone. Do not fear, we will get you home soon."

Legolas laughed with a bit of scorn in his voice, "home? That is across the Anduin and as we are now we still have miles between us and its waters!" He drew a heavy sigh and said, "you just don't know when you are defeated, do you? Men, you can't tell when you are beaten." He shook his head and all but spat, "this is the end, whether you can see it or not!"

Aragorn reached his hands through the bars and took the prince's head in his hands, bracketing it gently, "The end of the horse thieves. I will clear you and Roth's name then we will hunt down those cowards and bring them back to meet the people they betrayed."

Legolas tried to pull away from the man's firm grasp and the ranger let him. "No. You do not understand. They will fall in the end, yes, they will. But right now we are going to sink with them."

Aragorn sighed and taking Legolas' hand, he held it gently and then gave it a squeeze. The prince just laid his forehead back against the bars. "Legolas, you must trust me." Legolas gripped the ranger's hand back and said,

"I am so tired of fighting. I am just so very tired. Men hate us and we fight, win for a day, then they reject us again. There is so much evil in the world, and in its mocking face the foes of one enemy are separated because they cannot understand each other anymore. Men do not wish to understand that which they fear and Elves do not wish to fight it. I am just so very tired. Even the Lake Men grow leery of us and us of them. I trust you Aragorn son of Arathorn. You have never let me down and have been my friend even when it gets rough. I am too tired of fighting and so if you, in your youth, feel the need to carry on I wish you the best of luck. But know this," here Legolas closed his eyes as though against the dark, "it is an uphill battle."

Aragorn heard a soft yawn emit from the blonde Elf and Legolas' breathing even out into deep and slow breaths. He still held Aragorn's hand as though it was all he had to keep him holding on. Aragorn knew that in his heart the prince did not wish to quit and he could go on strong for a long time yet if he was pushed.For this the ranger was grateful.

Aragorn looked at Rothinzil in the dim light and he saw how the Elf was clothed in only his breeches and his along with Legolas' cloaks. Pity rose in the ranger's heart. Tomorrow, when this was all over, he would make sure that they were fed and that Roth got a proper tunic to wear.

The Elves would both have extra clothes in their packs, but those were locked away with their weapons.

Aragorn looked into the darkness. He could not sleep, he felt so excited and yet like he had struck bedrock. He shut his eyes, but sleep did not come. He opened them and stared about the dank prison and still sleep did not come. He felt Legolas' hand go limp and he guessed the Elf was finally in a deep sleep. He was no longer worrying, no longer fighting and Aragorn knew it was because Legolas was not fighting any more, but it was not because he was broken. No, he knew he had someone else fighting for him who was worthy and Aragorn felt the burden of both of the Elves lives placed upon his shoulders.

He knew it was not something to take lightly and he let go of Legolas' hand gently, so as not to wake the prince. Putting both his hand sin his outer tunic's pockets, the ranger kept them warm and felt them tingle as life came back to them.

Aragorn opened his eyes and saw light glittering through cracks in the stone and he realized he must have actually gotten some sleep that night because it was morning and he had _opened_ his eyes. On the other side of the bars, Legolas slept peacefully. Roth had shifted closer to his prince during the night to ward off the chill he felt.

It made the ranger smile to see the friendship between the two Elves. It reminded him of his brothers. Rothinzil and Legolas were not brothers by blood, but Aragorn knew what many did not: they were sworn brothers. He did not know all the thought and reason behind it, but he did know that was what they were.

He got up carefully, to make sure that Legolas and Roth stayed asleep. They needed rest and he could tell they were both extremely tired because even Legolas had his eyes closed. He could see the Elves' breath coming out of their noses in puffs of white steam.

Looking at them he said in a faint whisper, "I will be back Legolas and Rothinzil. Just sleep a little longer and do not fear, for today you will be free." Legolas seemed to stir and then he held still.

Aragorn walked quietly out and he blinked as he walked into the bright world. The wind nipped him and he drew his tunic in closer about himself, since Roth had both his and Legolas' cloak. As he walked, the freshly fallen snow crunched beneath his feet and the noise seemed so loud in the early morning.

But he had to get to the magistrate's house again and wake the man if need be. He was not going to let his friends get killed that day. Brushing his unkept hair from his lean face, the ranger began to walk across the town towards the chancellor's home.

As he walked through the streets he saw that hardly anyone was about but boys doing their chores. It was earlier than he thought. The slush in the streets had frozen anew over night into awkward little waves and mountains with ankle twisting valleys.

The man found it hard to believe that he had even been out here the night before. The morning was crisp and no clouds hung in the sky. It was red, however and faint tendrils of night still clung about the crimson sky. It was actually beautiful in its own way as the colors mixed and welled together to create wonderful scene. If only he could be sharing it with his best friend. The whole landscape was ethereal and it seemed to be a sign from the Valar, all will be well and the night cannot last. A new sun has to come.

When the ranger reached the door, he knocked. There was no answer. He knocked again and banged even harder on the door. No answer still. As he waited another moment he took a chance to survey the house in the light of morning. It was not large nor was it small. It was made of logs and was seemingly snug.

He was about to knock again when the magistrate himself came to the door. He was wearing a nice robe, with a maroon colored cord about his waist. When he saw Aragorn he said, "my butler is not even awake yet. What is it you want? You can't possibly have any way to prove those Elves innocent. I shouldn't even waste my time..." He eyed Aragorn ad said with some reluctance, "well, come on in."

Aragorn entered with some reluctance himself. Even though he was a man he was used to the homes of Elves. They were close to nature and this place made him a bit uneasy. He had to tell himself that he was doing this for Legolas and for Roth. Otherwise he would have gladly run the other direction.

The magistrate stood by his own chair, which was large and very nearly over stuffed. But before sitting, he motioned for Aragorn to make himself comfortable in the chair across from him so that they might talk. "Don't get me wrong, ranger. I do not like to kill. I do not believe in puffing out flames, but these Elves..." He shook his head and sighed, "I can't trust them."

Aragorn said, "but the blonde one...he is an Elven prince...he is the crowned Prince of Greenwood the Great! Surly that must count for something? Do you wish to start a war with a race that if they so chose, could annihilate you?" Aragorn's voice was growing more and more distraught.

The other man shook his head and ran his fingers through his thinning hair. "No, I do not. Since the orcs destroyed our able men, we would not even be able to resist." He drew a heavy breath. "Yet if they did this horrible crime and let those men suffer and die at the hand of merciless orcs...then I can't say that I won't kill them." He then raised a brow at Aragorn and said, "don't bandy words with me. I know what place it is you speak of and saying its old name does not hide the evil it has turned into. Mirkwood it is now and should have always been. Where the Elves dwell are dangerous places."

Aragorn felt his mouth waiting to drop in shock as soon as he would let it. The elderly man gave a wry chuckle and said, "caught you off guard?" He gave a laugh, "those Elves used to be allies of ours until one betrayed us to the orcs. We were told he was captured by them first, but we do not know for sure."

Aragorn grimaced inwardly, for any Elf captured by orcs he would not be surprised if they were driven to betray those they cared for. Especially under the threat of torment they could receive for being an Elf, it would be doubled if they did not comply and orcs had a knack for making sure you were awake when they wanted you to be. "I am certain that the Elves did not do it on purpose. But you must understand Elves are not inhuman. They are beings like us and can be slain just as easily, they have feelings as we do and don't think for one minute that Elf did not lament, for if he betrayed you it is most likely his own kind was betrayed as well."

The man nodded slowly, as though processing all that he had been told thus far. He still was unmoved about the sentence of his prisoners. "Ranger, let me tell you something. The constabulary found them at the scene of the crime with a man dead and the others trying to capture the Elves. What does that tell you? Do you think that Elves are incapable of evil? Everyone can be evil if they wish, whether you choose to see it or no."

Aragorn shook his head sadly and said, "no. I know Elves can be evil, just as everyone else. But they have to be driven into it. Their hearts lie in peace and in joy. I have known evil Elves and so has Prince Legolas and his friend Rothinzil." The young Dúnadan sighed and looked at the floor for a moment. How could he explain to this man that the Elves were not evil, just misunderstood? "If you are not going to believe in the goodness of their hearts, then will you at least listen to reason?" he asked quietly.

The other snorted, "if I can believe it."

Aragorn said, "Two Elves cannot steal over twenty horses! They have no magical powers, despite popular beliefs. Or do you think they like your prison enough to not use a miracle to escape? Don't flatter yourself! " He scowled darkly and said, "it is impossible for them to bewitch others, that is the work of dragons, their bitter foes."

The elderly man nodded again and said, "Yes, as I recall not too long ago. They did defy the worm Smaug. But rumor has it they were after the treasure of his hoard more than because they disliked the creature."

Aragorn sighed. Yes, it was somewhat true. But the Elves also had grievances with the dragon. He had killed their people and helped to make their woods evil. It was not the fault of the Elves that their woods were turning into places of brooding evil and malice. Thy kept great vigilance over the places they still held for a time. He spoke slowly, as he tried to explain the immortals' point of view; "That is not entirely true, he let evil take their lands and after he left much evil fell, though it is returning and they are without aid to fight against it. They may live forever, yes. They can only abide so long on this earth being hated as they are by many and the day that they leave is the day that all man kind will rue bitterly, for then much that was good will be gone." The ranger looked the other straight in the eyes as he spoke.

The other said nothing for a few minutes and there was a silence between them that were heavy with the striving of wills. Finally the elder man spoke, "how can I know you are not lying? You see them with a friend's eye, and may be more willing to over look their faults."

Aragorn had expected this question and yet was still not wholly prepared for it. Perhaps it would best for the Elves to talk with this man themselves. "If you are willing I am sure that _Prince_ Legolas and Rothinzil his close friend will be more than willing to tell you truthfully all about their home and what honestly happened at the time of the crime they are _wrongfully_ charged with." He made sure to place emphasis on Legolas' title. He wanted to make sure the other knew the fact that whether his town was leveled by enraged Elves or not was his decision.

"I still see no alibi for them being there at the time of the murder." The graying man shook his head in frustration. Although he was beginning to believe that perhaps he had been wrong and now he was beginning to wish he had been.

"It was said the men were trying to lay hands on them," said Aragorn slowly. "Perhaps they wished to capture the Elves for other reasons unbeknownst to us. I know them and they would never murder anyone, no matter how much they hated them, in their sleep. Elves, especially Legolas and Rothinzil believe in a fair fight if it must come to that, though they would rather avoid it. Which is part of the secrecy of the Elves. They do not like to go around looking for trouble, which is often why are the first blamed for it, because they are thought to be hiding."

"Then who killed the man? I do not think the son would. But Calmir and his gang along with his father showed up in this town not too long ago and so I have not gotten the chance to know them. If the Elves were there, which they don't den that, then that leads me to believe that they did it."

Aragorn did not like what he was hearing. It sounded like the magistrate still found the fault to lie within the Elves and their race. Perhaps he was still afraid. But maybe Aragorn could use this fear. But he knew that would not be what Legolas or Roth would have him do. It would only serve to cause more tensions even if they were free. It only wins a day, they hoped to gain the trust of a town. The fight for innocence had turned into a fight for perception.

"I do not know, but if the son wanted to capture Legolas or Roth badly enough, then he would have killed anyone who got in his way."

"I cannot picture any son doing that to his own father." The man seemed to close his mind to the thought. It was not something he wanted to hear. It made him frightened and the thought of such cold hate and evil in his own mankind made him sick. If it was in Elves it was more tangible and it seemed that then they could get rid of it, if they killed the Elves. But as they did this, they did not realize that they were adding to the hate and fell chill that lurked within all Mankind. Every mortal had the potential for evil, but not all had the will to over come it with good.

"I have known men this cold. It does happen. I think you should talk to Legolas and let him tell you what happened. Do not be afraid of him," said the ranger. "He has saved my life, the lives of my brothers and many others before. Do you think I would not readily trust him with my life again?"

The elderly man sighed and rubbed his hand through his graying hair before saying, "I do not see yet what good you see in them. I will go and talk to them for your peace and mine. But before I do, I am going to get dressed for the cold." He looked at Aragorn and said, "are you not freezing? Where is your cloak?"

The young Dúnadan answered truthfully, "I gave it to Rothinzil, who was beaten nearly senseless under the charge that he attacked a child. He would never do that and I was told by him he no more than talked to the boy. Roth is now shirtless," told the ranger with anger rising in his voice.

The magistrate sighed and he said, "we sill straighten all this out when I get down there lad. Keep your cool."

Legolas heard the door to the jail being opened and he lifted his head from where it had been resting against the wall. Perhaps they had come to take him away and end everything. He looked sidelong at Rothinzil, who returned the glance. Both of them looked at the two figures approaching. One was certainly Aragorn. The other was older and he was taller, with broader shoulders, though they were withering. "Elves!" he called out to them, earning a sharp look from Aragorn.

The ranger whispered in his ear, "how would you like it if you were called 'human'? If you wish to get as much out of them as possible, talk nicely." He called out to Legolas in the Elven speech, "_mellon nin, I have brought him here to talk to you and Rothinzil. He means no harm._"

Legolas had guessed as much and he stood up, going over to the edge of the cell and pressing his forehead against the bars. "Estel..." he spoke to the ranger as the younger man came over first to make sure that all was well. "_How do you expect them to believe me or Roth_?" he spoke to his friend in Elven.

Aragorn answered back, "I am not sure I do. But you must try Legolas." Then he teased lightly, "I know you can be extremely mule headed if you really want to. Don't give up yet."

Legolas chuckled dryly, "alright _ranger_. I will try for what it is worth."

The turnkey of the jail came net to Kixer who had conveniently decided to show up. The jailer took the keys and handed them reluctantly to the magistrate, who snatched them away. The turnkey obviously was scared of the Elves and said, "Sir, are you sure you want to go in with them?" Kixer looked nervous and watched cautiously. They obviously were afraid of the Elves taking advantage of their lord's kindness.

The elderly man snapped, "half the danger is your head! Now leave immediately!" He did not want them around, for he feared that it would cause tensions to be raised between he and the Elves. They left without any argument, save the looks on their faces.

Legolas looked at him and then said to Aragorn in a worried voice, "you are going to stay here, are you not?" He feared an interrogation alone. Rothinzil too looked uneasy.

Aragorn smiled and said, "right beside you. Just tell him exactly what happened, nothing will be forced out of you, I promise."

Legolas looked at his friend and whispered, "then I trust you. You have always been a true friend to Roth and I." Aragorn smiled on the outside, but inside he was frowning. He could tell that Legolas was suffering a little from the cold and his friend's breathing was quick, though even. He could tell that Legolas was frightened a little. He felt honored that his friend had so much faith in him, when he had so little power to help him. The thought was also a bit alarming; what if he let the prince and Rothinzil down? What if he **_failed_**?

The lord of the town waited until Aragorn had finished speaking with Legolas and assuring him all would be well. Then he stepped forward and said, "hello Prince Legolas and Rothinzil, Captain of Mirkwood's Guard." Roth knew that was not entirely true, he was only _a_ captain, not _the_ captain. But it was close enough and that was not what this was about.

Legolas watched as the door was opened and both Aragorn and the other man stepped in. Legolas and Rothinzil watched him with fierce eyes. The man said, "if you would be more comfortable sitting, do so. I mean no harm to you."

Legolas and Roth sat down slowly, for not only did they still not fully trust this man, but their muscles ached from cold, and lack of exercise. "What is it you wish to talk about Lord of Farlost?" asked Legolas as politely as he could find it in his heart to say. There was still an edge of bitterness.

The man did not seem to notice or if he did, he did not mention it, "I want to speak to you and Rothinzil of what happened the day of your arrest."

Legolas looked from Aragorn and then he looked at Rothinzil before answering, "to do that will involve speaking not only of that day, but the night before."

Rothinzil nodded and said to back up his prince's answer, "lest things should be mixed up or not fully understood."

They then told all that had happened and when they were finished they looked to Aragorn, who was watching everyone quietly. The magistrate nodded slowly and said, "so you know not the reason why they wanted to capture you, seemingly alive?"

Rothinzil answered this question with a quick look at Legolas, "that is unknown to us, yes." He then sighed and said, "we meant no harm to the town, horse or man alike and we grieve to see that you lost so many lives. But if you need a target to avenge their deaths..."

"I do not need a 'target' Master Elf. I need answers and I need to get the outlaws, which right now the evidence still strongly points to you." He shook his head.

Suddenly Kixer ran in and he was panting heavily as though he had run for miles. His breath came from his mouth in short puffs of steam, white in the cold. "The horses! They are gone! The did not escape for the gate was locked, but the lock has been melted into weakness and broken it seems!"

Legolas raised his head and his blue eyes connected with the lord's dark ones in a knowing gaze. The man looked at Kixer and said, 'are you sure?" This would mean that the Elves were innocent. Something he would be loath to admit, but it was true he would try to make right the wrongs that had been made.

Kixer stammered, "I have never been so sure in my life!" He drew a quick breath before blurting out, "Calmir and his men are no where around either!"

The Lord of Farlost looked at Legolas and Rothinzil. He saw their haggard faces and tired looks. They had done no wrong and yet had been treated as murders. It was then he saw the wrong in it and he looked at them both, "you two and your ranger friend are to stay at my house and recuperate. Anything you need will be given, horses, food, clothing..."

Legolas smiled and said, "you more than have our thanks. But we cannot trust (or thank properly) a man whose name is unknown to us."

He smiled back and said, "my name is Ryxen, Lord Ryxen." He then looked over to Kixer, who was still panting in the doorway. "Round up the boys and then bring them to my house. We then can all talk."

Glorfindel strode behind Erestor. It was now near eleven in the morning and he was not in a wonderful mood. The Gondolin Elf was downright grumpy. However, he felt slightly smug when he thought of how Erestor was taking everything. The raven-haired counselor was even worse and he was not afraid to show it. "Glorfindel, can't you keep up? What do you think this is? A cake walk?" he snapped fiercely as he rolled a map of the mountains they were crossing up and stowed it quickly in his pack.

Glorfindel retorted in a harsh whisper, "if you want to call attention to every goblin ever spawned, keep up your obnoxious and very loud grumbling!" They were not able to use horses in this weather and even though they could walk on top of the snow, they did not particularly like it. It made traveling slower to walk and it mean that if goblins came they were fair game. The only good thing was that it was easier to them to hide themselves than horses. All in all, they were a pair of extremely grumpy Elves that got on each other's nerves when they were in good moods.

Erestor just rolled his eyes and looked ahead. More mountains. He hadn't done this much traveling for a long time and was finding it far from pleasant. The wind whipped his hair into his face and he brushed it lightly aside. "Where are we?" he mumbled to himself.

Glorfindel sighed, "well, if we would have taken a right back there then we would be over this mountain by now and through the gape, hence we would through with this blasted terrain!" He whined, "but some ones else thought that reading an old map was better than experience!"

Erestor snapped, "did I ask _you_?"

Glorfindel rumbled, "no, but there was nobody else to answer unless you are talking to snow and rocks! Do you have any idea where we are? We are closer to the goblins, that's where! If we get attacked by their main patrol, then we are as good as forgotten and dead." He looked sidelong, "If you want to know what Mandos looks like I can tell you. Or if you want to see him in person I see no need for I to go as well."

Erestor wrinkled his nose. "That is not capricious Glorfindel!" He pulled his hood up about his face and said, "very well. If you think you can lead us back, then do it! I am tired of arguing!" He was about to walk forward when he saw a huge track in the snow. It was of a giant paw. As he looked about he saw more and he felt the hair rise on the back of his neck. He had never seen tracks this big before. His stomach did a flip and he looked back at Glorfindel. The Gondolin Elf was not there.

Glorfindel had started back and to the right, where he felt they should go. However when he looked back and saw Erestor's still form he asked, "are you frozen? What is the matter with you?" He then mocked, "What do you think this is? A cake walk?"

Erestor just stammered, "Glorfindel, how big are most wargs?" The Erestor's fingers were nearly dog-earing the edge of his own map made the Gondolin Elf a bit uneasy.

Glorfindel knitted his golden brows and said, "I suppose the size of a bear, why?"

"Well then there is a rather large one around here some where. I found tracks." Erestor's voice quivered and Glorfindel did not like the sound of that. Erestor did not get afraid. He always strategically figured things out and judged them. Now his voice sounded weak and totally undignified. Had they not been traveling in a place known to have wargs Glorfindel would have found it quite humorous.

But now their lives were at stake and if he took this lightly they could be killed. All though, what may be big to Erestor may be a medium sized warg in his eyes. He trotted over to his companion and looked to where Erestor had his eyes locked.

It was large. Both of his feet could stand in it and one of Erestor's. It also was alone. This meant it was most likely hunting or was hurt. For the larger wargs hunted alone because like other animals they began to find other company obnoxious as they got old. Glorfindel hoped it had already ate or was returning to its den to sleep.

Looking at Erestor he said, "lets keep moving." He gripped Erestor's cloak and gave it a tug to get the raven-haired Elf motivated to walk on.

Erestor pulled free of Glorfindel's grip and said, "so there is a hungry warg about looking to have raw Elf for lunch? Wonderful! Traveling with you is such a joy!"

Glorfindel snorted and then hissed venomously, "if you keep shouting that way we might as well drench ourselves in sauce and stand here, waiting for them. It wouldn't be long before they found us and then I can say, 'this is Erestor and he has always wanted to be an Elf pastrami!'"

Erestor did nothing but scowl daggers at his 'enemy' and swirl his dark eyes upward in annoyance while stating, "Oh wonderful! Well in that case I will tell them, 'this is Glorfindel and he always wanted to be an Elf roast, but you don't want to eat him, he's spoiled. You might get a tummy ache!'"

Glorfindel rolled his eyes in turn and commented, "that is like the pot calling the kettle black!"

Erestor snorted before rebutting, "oh, is it?" His brows rose and he looked at the Gondolin Elf with a fiery glare.

This argument continued for another hour and kept building up more and more momentum until something had to happen.

As they neared a precipice that would be good to survey the land before them they stopped. Glorfindel went to go look around and Erestor fumbled through his bag, looking for the correct map. As Glorfindel watched Erestor he sighed. This was getting rather annoying. He needed something to throw.

Looking on the ground he saw the nice white snow. It was a bit cold to make into a ball, but after holding it in his hands a few seconds it warmed up enough to mold into a _large_ ball. He threw it at Erestor, but he missed and hit the bag of Erestor's maps.

Of course, it had to fall over the edge of the cliff. Erestor looked at Glorfindel and growled in a low and virulent whisper, "you can go and get those!" He set his jaw and glared at Glorfindel then for greater affect. When he saw that the Gondolin Elf was by no means going down the cliff to get his maps he sighed, "if I want something done right, I might as well do it myself."

Glorfindel looked a bit alarmed and said, "I wouldn't do that. There is a lot of ice. Do you wish to break your neck?" he finished. Then he added as an after thought, "I think that might very well be the best objective you have conjectured yet Lord Erestor!"

Erestor had already begun to descend down a narrow lip of rock that if he followed it carefully enough, he could reach the bottom. It curved into the edge of the precipice, providing a near ramp like way down. "I highly doubt I will break my neck!" he retorted savagely. "But I think my best thought was of you coming down to get me, then if I was lucky, you would break yours!"

It was only seconds after he had reached the bottom and collected the said maps that he realized he was trapped down there. As he thought of the warg he began to feel cold fear tickle his spine and he looked up at Glorfindel, "I can't get back up."

"That is a problem, now isn't it?" said the golden-haired Elf shaking his head. This was too entertaining to end it right away and pull the midnight-haired Elf up. He sighed, "too bad the warg is probably down there somewhere looking for something to eat..."

Erestor narrowed his eyes; "This isn't amusing! You forced me down here and you had better help me up!" he snapped. Pulling his cloak around himself tighter he said, "and we don't have all day!"

Glorfindel frowned, "alright, keep your cloak on straight! I'm coming!" Glorfindel then took and laid his bow and quiver on the ground after unstrapping it from his back. It choked him when he laid down and he didn't need to pass out and fall in. He laid flat on his stomach with his head and shoulders leaned precariously over the edge of the bluff. Stretching his arms downwards, he said, "now reach!"

Erestor jumped for the Gondolin Elf's hand and grabbed it, but his weight was just enough to cause Glorfindel to slide on the slippery snow and tumble over the edge in a cascade of snow and golden hair.

The blonde Elf landed on top of a surprised counselor who said under his breath, "nice." His voice was cold and sardonic. Then he rolled his eyes up at Glorfindel, who was picking snow out of his pointy ear, "do you mind getting off me and then dealing with personal hygiene?" He felt his face burning with snow and he was certain it had to be up his nose.

Glorfindel said, "hold on a minute. I nearly have all of the snow out and don't wish to miss any." He continued batting his ears and flicking them clean of snow. Erestor scowled and shoved Glorfindel off roughly. Glorfindel got up from the snow and brushed it of himself. He looked up at the edge and said, "nice, not even my bow made it down here or my quiver! At least we still have our swords! Way to go Erestor!"

The raven-haired Elf got up and spat back, "if you hadn't thrown the snow ball-"

The golden-haired Elf shook his head, "lets not make this worse by pointing fingers, shall we?"

Erestor growled, "because its your fault!" He shouted, "admit it! If you had been a little more mature and kept your head on straight we might not be stuck down here now waiting to be an Elf lunch and Elf snack!"

Glorfindel rolled his azure eyes in annoyance, "Erestor, didn't your mother ever teach you not to play the 'blame game'? The fact is it was your fault!"

Erestor was not even going to respond. A low growl was heard and the raven-haired Elf looked at Glorfindel, "I told you to eat breakfast! I'll wager you 'forgot' to."

Glorfindel shook his head, "Erestor, that was not my stomach, please say it was yours." And by what means had Erestor told him to eat breakfast? It was probably during a part of the morning when the Gondolin Elf was hardly alert. And anyway, he did NOT have to be told to eat breakfast!

Erestor shook his head and said, "it was not I." Suddenly a huge shadow was cast on the ground from above and they stared up into the face of a huge warg. It had to be _the_ warg, whose tracks had been found by Erestor. It was the greatest one either of the Elves had ever seen. It was old by the scraggly looks of it with patches of fur missing, but it was not a he, it was a _she_. She did not have as much mane on her back and her pelt was a bit shorter and finer (despite the random bald patches), if that can describe the hair of a warg. Glorfindel's bow looked tiny next to her large foot.

Glorfindel felt the color drain from his face and saw Erestor was frozen in place with a face as white as death.

Glorfindel whispered to Erestor as quietly as he could without moving from his spot, "no sudden moves." After all, Glorfindel' bow was up on the cliff edge. Perhaps if the knocked it down they could then shoot the creature, but because of her shear mass, she was going to be a challenge for two swordsmen alone. Anyway, Glorfindel knew it was long since Erestor had ever wielded a sword. All Elves have the potential to be deadly...all _except_ Erestor. His talent was in counseling, not in fighting.

The dark-haired Elf whispered back through grit teeth, "don't worry about that." He had no intention of moving. He was as close to being petrified with fear came. If it was goblins, he would welcome those. He could fight those. Not a warg that was at least ten times as large and as powerful as he was. He asked Glorfindel, "so what is your plan of action?"

Glorfindel answered, "I don't know. My bow is up there." He personally had no problem fighting big creatures. Long ago he used to call it fun, until he had been turned into Elven toast by the Balrog. He would fight this warg, but it was not moving. It was waiting for them to make the first move.

Erestor whispered, "maybe if we act bigger than it is it will leave. You seem to enjoy throwing snowballs, throw some at it!" he hissed.

"You can do that and then tell me from its jaws what to do next!" seethed Glorfindel. Then an idea struck him, "you distract it. I am going to see if I can't knock my bow and quiver from the edge and make them fall to me."

Erestor frowned, "me? Distract that? Are you out of your mind? How?" he snapped.

Glorfindel said, "I don't know! Throw things at it! Make it only look at you!"

Erestor rolled his eyes as he said corrosively, "no! Really? That is usually what the meaning of 'distraction' is!" and bent down stiffly to get some snow. He felt his hand trembling and he hoped that Glorfindel did not notice. Molding the snow into a odd shaped ball, he lobbed it at the warg. She growled and watched as it flew past and fell off the right to mix with more snow. In a scornful growl, she barred her teeth into a wicked looking smile. Erestor could understand what she was saying as though she had spoken. _"I am going to eat your little friend and when I bore of ripping him apart and playing with his corpse you are next weak one." _

Erestor whipped his sword out. "Do you really want to fight then, Hound of Sauron?" he seethed. Fear was turning into anger. She growled and to Erestor it seemed she was laughing. He tightened his grip on his sword, which to his dismay was slick with sweat from his palms. _Perhaps this was not a good idea. _

Glorfindel looked over and shouted, "Erestor you fool!" But the other Elf was not even listening. He placing all his concentration on the she-warg that was ready to lunge for him.

Now Glorfindel had to get his bow or let Erestor become that ugly beast's lunch. Couldn't that stupid counselor ever even think? Had he no thought for his preservation? Why had Elrond ever placed him in a position that required so much thought? Well, he certainly was distracting the warg. If only Glorfindel could reach his bow with the quiver. But he could not.

The warg jumped down straight for Erestor, whose face went white as he saw it coming straight for him. He raised the blade but she knocked it aside with a powerful fore paw as she landed. With her other paw she pinned Erestor to the ground, crushing him into the snow and knocking the breath out of him. He stabbed at her paw with his sword, but it was no use. She grinned evilly and he winced as her saliva dripped onto his face. He was going to be brunch! "Glorfindel! Glorfindel!" he screamed for the Gondolin Elf.

Glorfindel looked over and saw his companion being crushed by the weight of her paw. He cringed inwardly as her claws shifted to rest on Erestor's throat. A little more pressure, a little more movement from one of those huge claws and Erestor would be dead. "Erestor!" he called back. The other looked at him with an expression of complete terror. Erestor actually looked pitiable.

Glorfindel looked at he warg and shouted at it, "you stupid, mangy, ugly, filthy.." the list could have gone on but it turned its head to look at him and he said, "of course I am talking to you!" She growled at him, but pressed its claw further into poor Erestor's neck. Glorfindel saw that her other paw was holding down Erestor's sword hand and his fingers had released their grip on the hilt automatically, and it had slid to the ground. Erestor's breath was coming fast and the adviser seemed to be contemplating all the normal ways of death and thinking of which one he would have preferred compared to this.

If he let Erestor get eaten Elrond would never forgive him. The Gondolin Elf picked up some snow and flung it at the warg's head. It hit its mark and the creature growled as the white power fluttered into its eyes and ears. It slowly got off of Erestor and stalked towards Glorfindel. Erestor rose up slowly to a sitting position and he watched as the beast went to devour the blonde immortal.

It suddenly went for Glorfindel and even as the Gondolin Elf-lord yanked his sword out, it slammed into him, driving him into the side of the ledge. He succeeded in slicing the animal's paw so it was no longer useable, but his body was completely crushed against the rock and pain shot down his left side. He slid to the ground and the warg slammed him against the wall of rock again with her other fore paw. The shear force of it caused a vibration up the side.

Glorfindel saw spots and looked at Erestor who was crawling over and picking up his sword again. The warg followed Glorfindel's eyes and was not ready to allow the dark-haired Elf to kill her from behind. She turned about and snarled at the counselor, who grabbed his sword and stood up. Taking a defensive stance, he prepared to do battle with her.

But she hardly considered him a threat now, for she could smell the fear scent strong upon him and she saw it reflecting in his eyes. She spun her bulk back around to face the Elf she thought to be fiercer. Glorfindel was dazed and he stumbled up to fight again. But she banged him back against the rock. He felt pain score his body a second third time. But this time the vibration shook hard enough and his quiver along with his bow slide from the lip of the precipice and fell at his side.

The beast was too close and he could not use it properly with her hampering every move he made. He looked past her at Erestor and mouthed, "distract her."

Surprisingly, the raven-haired Elf nodded and taking his sword he swung it at her flank. It bit into her flesh and she howled. Spinning around she leaped at the Elf that had dared to strike at her and spill her blood. Erestor ducked her jaws and ended up beneath her, only to be ready himself to be crushed alive.

The stench of her made him sick and he cowered to the ground, not in terror (though he was frightened) but in illness and fatigue.

Glorfindel had his bow notched and ready. He was just grateful that it did not break when it fell. Aiming for the back of the she-warg's head, he drew it back until the feathers were aligned with his cheek and then he let it fly.

It killed her swiftly but to his dismay, she fell on top of Erestor. He heard the dark-haired Elf give a cry and then Glorfindel saw a pair of leg and feet sticking out from beneath her body. They were thrashing about furiously and Glorfindel ran over to the warg's carcass.

With horror, he realized Erestor was suffocating. Yes, he had loathed this Elf, but not enough to see him die this way. As he tried to lift the creature, he wondered how long Erestor could last without air. Three minutes? Four? Or maybe two?

He noticed that the struggles Erestor was making were becoming less and less strong. He was dying. Glorfindel gripped the animal's hair in his hands, desperately pulling at it and putting all his strength into trying to move the creature. But his body was beginning to tremble from his effort and he was making little progress. Erestor was hardly moving now and the golden-haired Elf-lord knew that time was running out.

He suddenly heard a mumbled voice on the other side call out, "Glorfindel? Where are you, you golden-haired lummox!" Glorfindel drew a quick breath and raced to the other side of the creature and he saw Erestor's head sticking out from beneath the creature. His shoulders and arms were free as well. He had managed to wiggle beneath the she-warg's neck and twist his head out to get air. But the fact that he was panting meant that he had only been able to breathe a few seconds ago.

Glorfindel said mordantly, "having fun yet?"

Erestor glared up at him, "if you know what is good for you, you will pull me out and not say another word!" He began to struggle a bit more and Glorfindel smiled broadly as he watched Erestor wriggling around.

Gripping the raven-haired Elf's arms, he said, "you smell like warg!" Erestor's face contorted to one of annoyance and slight anger. He rolled his dark eyes and gave Glorfindel the coldest look that the golden-haired Elf had even seen on him. That only served to make the Gondolin Elf laugh more as he dragged the counselor from beneath the Hound of Sauron.

The dark-haired Elf gritted his teeth and whispered, "could you be a bit more gentle? It feels like I had a giant boulder on me." Glorfindel dug some of the snow away and smoothed it to make it more slick and easier to drag out Erestor. Erestor's scowl darkened and he growled, "wipe that smirk off your face this minute!"

Glorfindel just rolled his eyes, "if you keep up all that complaining I will leave you right here!" He began to let go of Erestor's arms.

Erestor growled, "you wouldn't!" His dark eyes flashed.

Glorfindel looked at the sky and said almost to himself, "actually, I would, but Elrond would kill me and Mandos can be rather grumpy. I do not fancy to see him again so soon." He shrugged and looked back down at Erestor. "Are you going to help me or lay there like a dead thing?" The answer he received was one he had expected.

"I was just nearly mashed by a warg and you think that I can move?" he barked at the Elf staring down at him with a derisive grin on his fair face.

Glorfindel took a moment to sweep some strands of blond hair away from his face. He felt slightly dazed still, but he was well for the most part. One more good pull and Erestor was out from under the warg except for his feet.

The absolutely irate and totally relieved counselor drew a deep breath and sighed. His lungs could rise and fall so much easier now. Air had never tasted so sweet or felt so wonderful before.

As he looked up at Glorfindel's face he said between deep breaths, "I honestly have never been more happy to see you in my life!"

"You say that now, but I bet you will say it again some other day," answered the Gondolin Elf as he tugged the rest of Erestor from beneath the warg.

The black-haired counselor looked up at the sky and then his eyes narrowed as they saw the steep edge of the precipice that both of the Elves had tumbled own. He snorted air through his nose and said, "how are we going to get out of here?"

**_TBC...PLEASE review! Please? Pretty please with a cherry on top? And sprinkles? And...and...well you know! We want to know what you think now. Erestor and a warg...Valar help them! LOL _**

**_And the story is far from over btw. We have arround fifteen more chapters:) But please drop in a consoling little review before Thursday, which is when our next post will be. _**

Tha**nks a lot to all who have reviewed and all who are going to! **

**_Review responses:_**

**Snow Glory:** You love Elf hurtsies more? Yes1 We aren't alone! But both are fine with us! LOL Rothinzil? Fade? -looks at aching Elf- he's fine...really. Legolas' doom? Perhaps. You never know...muahahahaha! Thanks for the cool review:)

**Marie Delcore:** Hmmmmmm...interesting review...how do we respond to something like this mellon nin? We must consider this very carefully. LOL But yes, Just wait utnil alter...your ranger will wish he had never been born...and so will everybody else...but that is not the point. Hey, we don't mind...took us long enough to be allowed to post! LOL And that whole chipmunk thing was wrong...hilarious...but sooooooooo...WRONG! Thanks for the rview:)

**Nefhiriel** Hey! Awwww.. thanks for the review!Of course there is more to come...it is US! -Holds resisting ranger in a big hug- but too bad for him! Glad you seem to enjoy the long chapters! We like writing them for you to enjoy! LOL And as we were saying in another review response there are roughly fifteen more chapters to go or more. Thanks for the review:)

Hmmmmmmmmm...to who ever sent this one (hmmmmm...nameless?)...we know it was really our fault...but the 'blame game' is such fun! LOL But honestly, we know we asked for that one and more than had it coming. thanks for the reivew:) Hehehehe. But please leave a name. It is very hard to repond otherwise and we aren't going to be angry or anything. :)

**Sabrina:** Awww.. thanks for the review. We just got it before we decided to post. LOL But it was a wonderful thing nonetheless. LOL Yes, they should have known! Silly Elvesess! We have to leve now as we are rather pressed:) Thanks!


	9. Second Chances

_**CHAPTER NINE**_

_Second Chances_

As the Elves entered into the house, they felt slightly out of place. Removing the hoods from their cloaks, they surveyed the room about them. It was fine as far as human dwellings went. It certainly was warmer and Legolas felt Roth began to get less tense as he began to re-gather his warmth. Aragorn followed behind the Elves and put a hand on Legolas' shoulder as if to say, 'I told you it would be well. Why didn't you truly trust me?'. The prince looked back and smiled warmly.

Ryxen looked at the three friends and said, "there is a room where you can take baths. I used to have children, so there are several tubs in there if you choose to take baths together and have more time to talk. He motioned to the closed door on his right. He also laughed, "I suppose you will want some spare clothes to wear afterwards? I will send someone for your packs and weapons that were confiscated as soon, as may be. In the mean time, I have many robes you are welcome to use." Here he laughed, "after all, you are slimmer than I and they no longer fit me." He patted his fleshy stomach pointedly.

Legolas said quietly, "thank you for your kindness, and I can assure you all of your offers will be taken up." He actually smiled, but Aragorn thought the smile to be rather hollow.

The magistrate laughed and said to Legolas, "Master Elf, I would not have it an other way." He then nodded to them; "I have business to attend to, as you understand. When you are finished resting, you are more than welcome to help in any way that you know of." He then went into another room and began to talk in close whispers with his servants.

Legolas, Rothinzil and Aragorn went into the other room to get a warm bath.

The bathroom was tiled with brick and there was a stack of towels by each brass tub. It seemed to them to be the most wonderful sight in a long time. Servants knocked and entered in with three big basins of hot water with steam dancing across the tops and soap along with three robes, red of color.

Legolas noted with some slight pain that the servants acted afraid and hurried out quickly without uttering a word. Perhaps one might think it was for them to have their privacy, but it seemed more like they did not wish to be in the room with Elves more than they had to.

To all three of the companions thought the hot water felt beyond praise. Roth felt the cold leaving him and his throbbing back felt strangely soothed with little burn feeling.

Legolas sat in his tub, surrounded by bubbles and he was using his thin fingers to unbraid his long blonde hair. Once this was done, he plunged his head beneath the surface of the steaming water and came back up spluttering.

Ryxen was standing outside the room talking with one of his servants talking quietly and they began to walk to another room when a high pitched scream came from the room and he heard a cry, "I have soap in my eyes! Estel, you are dead!" The magistrate looked shocked at first, then he shook his head. It reminded him of his children long ago.

Finally, nearly two hours later, Legolas came out first in a scarlet robe fastened about the waste with a red cord to match. His long blonde hair was still not completely dry and hung limply about his shoulders, looking much longer wet than it did dry. The prince was in the process of pulling it back into its normal braids.

Around theblonde being'seyes, was a bit of red. A result of soap getting into his eyes from the ranger, who had lobbed a soap bar at him, hitting him square in the face. But if it were not for Legolas launching a towel at the human's head, Aragorn would have had no need to pitch a bar of soap at the Elf. So in the end each had gotten what they had deserved really. For once Rothinzil was not helping to stir up the tensions between the ranger and prince.

The saidRothinzil, dressed in a robe, appeared out of the steaming room nextand healready had his hair pulled back into braids like the ones Legolas was attempting to put in. He was actually laughing again and that was a joy to the prince's heart for the laughter was clear and rang true.

Last came Aragorn in his robe. His hair was already nearly dry and obviously was not brushed yet. Legolas looked at him and said, "you need to brush your hair out! Will you never learn?"

A servant came up and interrupted the momentas hesaid, "Masters, your clothes are here along with your weapons and Master Strider, the Master has some clothes he thinks will fit you rather well." The servant was a young boy, no more than twelve. He was looking at the pointy ears on the Elves as though they were going to bite him.

Legolas looked at Aragorn and decided it would be better for the ranger to do the talking. The dark-haired man said, "thank you. Where might we find them?"

"The Master used to have children long ago before the disease came. In the back room there are beds for you to sleep on tonight of you wish. You will find your clothesthere too," finished the boy concisely.

Finally, the Elves and Ranger were dressed. The clothes were a perfect fit for the ranger, but he still felt awkward in them because they did not have the same feeling as his own. They were not of the same style and material. But they were comfortable.

Legolas and Roth were glad they had brought an extra pair and they felt fine in them.

They found themselves seated at a medium sized table being served hot brandy. After the maids had left, the Elves looked at the steaming amber liquid with slight frowns on their faces. They never really drank anything like this and Aragorn took a long pull from his mug. He looked at the Elves over the rim of his vessel. Setting it down on the table he said, "try some, its good."

Legolas looked at the ranger like he was crazy. Rothinzil took a sip and then smiled and gulped some. "It remind me of what I would be given after I came in during the winter as an Elfling." He drank some more and Legolas continued to scowl at his.

"I suppose it isn't going to kill me..." he muttered, as he watched the liquid swirl about the flagon when he sloshed it around in the mug. He took a small sip and said to himself, "well it isn't horrible, but if this is chiefly what men get drunk from they must drink it by the gallon!" He sipped some more and smiled slightly. Oh yes, it was much less potent than his fahter's wine.

It felt good to be warm and dry, safe and sound. But he wondered if they really were safe. For the moment, yes, most likely, but would it last? It couldn't.

Ryxen stepped in with Kixer and he smiled, "feeling better, yes?"

They all nodded and said simultaneously, "yes, thank you."

Ryxen frowned and said more seriously, "we have to talk. I would love to let you stay here, but we need your help. You seem to know these men and what they were doing. Elves are known for tracking, as are rangers. We would be honored if you would help to get these men and bring them back."

Legolas looked up and said, "In plain words you fear us staying here with you and want us to be on our way as soon as possible." He shook his head and said, "you could have just told us and we would not have cared. However, we mean to go after these men and will help you anyway we can. They did not only wrong you and the whole town, but us as well."

Rothinzil nodded and Aragorn stared at the brandy in his flagon.

Ryxen said, "Kixer and his men will go with you and aid you, for their horses were among the ones stolen and anyway, it is their job. I expect you three will want fresh cloaks and such. I have plenty of old ones, some were my sons' some were mine when I was smaller." He chuckled wryly and said, "I will be out in the study and you may come and speak to me before you go, unless you wish to stay."

It was not long before they were saying farewell to the elderly man and walking out the door with a snug leather cloak each, lined with wool or rabbit furs.

They met Kixer outside the town along with some more of his men, four to be exact. They had no horses now and were forced to travel on foot. They were not hostile towards the Elves and ranger, but they did shun them. It was perhaps not intentional, but it happened.

They were not so withdrawn about Aragorn, but with Legolas and Rothinzil there was no doubt that they were doing it. Legolas and Roth felt the their fear and tried to keep away from them as well.

When they walked on top of the snow, both of the fair being's felt scornful eyes upon them, cast from humans forced to trudge behind them and flounder in the deep white flakes. The eyes made Legolas shiver, but they did not have much effect on Rothinzil.

He could remember things for a long time, but he did not hold grudges or continue to find fault with those who wronged him after they had asked for forgiveness or showed remorse. It was not his nature and so their scornful looks did not hinder him, but they made Legolas uncomfortable.

Aragorn knew this and kept close to Legolas' side. Legolas looked at Aragorn and smiled, "I guess I won't be home for the festival tomorrow." The ranger gave a soft laugh and answered,

"No, I don't think so." He stumbled in the snow and Legolas gripped his arm to keep him from falling. The snow was getting deeper and harder for the men to travel in, even as they walked in the path plowed by the many horses they were tracking.

Legolas did not even have to say, 'be careful.' It was written on his face. Aragorn smiled back at his friend and Legolas snorted, "next time I will let you fall." The man just laughed and the blonde Elf prince felt his lips curl up into a smile to replace the alarmed look his face had taken when his friend tripped.

Rothinzil was ahead with the men, his fair face was troubled and he stopped, letting the men walk by. Then, looking back at Legolas and Aragorn, he said, "they are not too far ahead now. I can hear the snorts of the horses."

Legolas listened and he too heard the snorts of the animals and their hooves tearing at the snow. If they went ahead much farther and over the knoll that loomed ahead they would loose the element of surprise. If that happened, many more men could die and the town would know an even greater loss. These thieves would not give up without a fight now that they knew the chase was on.

Legolas called out to Roth in the Gray Tongue, "_tell them to stop! Tell them the men are over the knoll_!" Rothinzil nodded and trotted lightly over the snow to walk alongside the men. Legolas could hear him talking with the men and telling them and he whispered to Aragorn, "this is it. But you know as well as I do that they will not give in easily. We have to surprise them."

The wind plastered the prince's hair to his cloak hood and nipped the Elf's nose. Kixer and his men came back with Roth beside them. The green-eyed marshal asked, "what do you propose we do then? We cannot surprise them! That is folly!"

Aragorn said tersely, "it would do you well to listen to what Legolas and Rothinzil have to say. They have lived longer than we have and faced dangers you cannot fathom, yet come out alive." A hardened look came to the ranger's face that made him seem like an Elven-lord when he spoke with such sincerity. Legolas and Roth even had to wonder if the bit of Elven blood in his veins did not seem to flow stronger than it had in his ancestors.

Legolas said, "I think you Roth have a good chance of rounding up the horses. Roth and I can take care of the men easier than could you. We wish to be the one's to take them down and bring them back." Rothinzil nodded and said,

"We can buy you time to get the horses and keep them off your backs."

Kixer said with a growl in his voice, "how do we know you aren't one of them, Elf?" He eyed Legolas suspiciously, as though he expected the Elf to try and attack him.

Legolas suddenly notched his bow with extreme accuracy and speed and pointed it at the man's head. The man's suspicious look melted away into one of fear and anger. Legolas nearly smirked, "if I was against you, you would be dead by now Kixer and your men as well. Do not underestimate me and take me for a fool." His voice sounded lethal and Kixer backed off with his hands raised.

"Alright Elf, I will trouble you and your companion no more about whose side you are on. You have made your point very clear."

Legolas put his bow, along with the arrow away. "Good," he said with a smile, "then let us continue." His blue eyes danced and Aragorn knew that Legolas had just played a sort of Elven joke on the men. To the Elves' way of thinking, it was whimsical. Legolas sighed and said, "first of all, if you go straight at them, they will see you and shoot you, if we divide up too much we will be killed one at a time."

Kixer nodded, "I see your point Elf." What he did not see was that Legolas was giving himself and Roth the most dangerous part and the townsmen a chance at coming out of this mess alive. But Legolas had a feeling that he would be the one with the element of surprise this time and he and Roth would win this match. All the men could see, however, was that the Elves did not wish to be with them and they took it as the immortals were hiding something. Legolas, Roth and Aragorn all knew it, but arguing it was like arguing over spilled milk.

Aragorn looked at Legolas and said, "I am going to come with you." Legolas gave Aragorn a hard look, but the man shook his head. He would be dead before he would be left behind.

Kixer divided up his four men into two groups, one to go for the horses right and one to bring up the left. More reinforcements were expected to come from a neighboring town so they could bring the horses back up to Farlost and fix the lock on the corral.

Legolas carried his bow loosely in his grip as he prepared with Aragorn and Roth to attack Calmir and his men. "The sooner we get started, the sooner we can be rid of this... unpleasantness," said Legolas bitterly. He was tired of being around men and wished to go home and be with his people. He had never thought that he would miss home as much as he did then.

Legolas, Aragorn and Rothinzil waited on top of the knoll. They lay on their stomachs, in quiet watchfulness for the running of horses, the signal to spring the trap.

The Elves' eyes could see farthest and they could see the men circling carefully about the horses. With regret they each saw their own horses mixed with the human's horses. The difference in the horses was more than obvious. The Elven horses were bigger and much sleeker, even in winter their hair was not shaggy.

Suddenly the horses began to run and the companions began to slide down on their bellies. In this way they would avoid being seen until the opportune moment. They were being careful not to slide down and give themselves away, but ice had been frozen onto much of the hillside from the storm. As they neared the bottom Legolas stopped and he whispered, "something isn't right. I don't see them. They should be here." He looked at Aragorn with narrowed eyes and an alarmed look.

Did they not have the element of surprise? What had they missed? But then the thought struck him, who were they dealing with? Roth just snorted and shook his head. "It's like they vanished, "he whispered.

Aragorn returned Legolas' disquieted gaze and said, "I think we are being watched."

Legolas stood up carefully and then Roth stood up beside him and Aragorn looked up at them before rising himself. Legolas sprinted cautiously ahead and checked the around where the men had been and saw something odd. They had a fire going. It was then he knew that they were expecting to stay here and a chill went down his spine as he understood, they were the not the hunters, but the prey now.

Somehow the men had found a way to turn everything around and it was disquieting and Legolas spun around to see Rothinzil up behind him. The dark-haired Elf said, "Legolas, we are the prey and they are a pack of crafty predators." The other being's face was marked with a considerably credible look of intense thought.

Legolas said, "but it was reversed and strangely so." He felt confused and unsure. It was not a feeling he liked and he looked at Rothinzil with concern lighting up his face, "where is Strider?"

Rothinzil spun around on his heel and said, "behind-" his jaw dropped. Aragorn was gone. Rothinzil looked at Legolas and his whole comportment had changed from one of thoughtfulness, to one of regret and shock.

Legolas turned an icy look on Roth that he only used when he was really furious, "why did you leave him Rothinzil!" seethed the Wood-Elf through clenched teeth.

Rothinzil stammered, "he told me to go and see what you were doing and make sure nothing ill befell you! I did not think! Legolas I am sorry!"

Legolas snapped, "you are right, you didn't think! He is out there and for all we know he could be dead!" Roth saw the icy looks in his friend's eyes and cast his gaze from the blonde Elf's face. He felt horrible, not only had he let his prince down, but also his friend and he felt queasy in his stomach now with guilt.

Legolas suddenly looked and saw Aragorn come running over the knoll edge and then he saw another man come and slam into the ranger, toppling him down the hill. Legolas notched his arrow quicker than sight and aiming a little off by mistake , he shot the man in the leg as the outlaw tried to harm his friend.

The prince normally would have not shot to kill, but this human was far too close to taking Aragorn's life than he took comfort in. The man who had thus attacked his friend was one of four who deserved to go back and be tried for his crime. It was not Legolas' call whether he lived or died, but the law. Roth notched his bow as well. Aragorn came running towards Legolas.

"Run Legolas! Noro lim! Run Roth! Mellon nins, RUN!"

Legolas and Roth did run, towards their human friend. The four men were coming over the crest of the hill and they could see what was happening. As the Elves ran lightly over the snow they clashed with the thieves head on.

But Legolas found out swiftly as he fought that there was more than just these four. Other men came over the hill and surrounded the Elves. Legolas suddenly felt hampered and he felt weight crushing him to the ground. He found himself looking through a net of heavy iron chain links that had covered him. His knives could not free him and he was pressed into the snow.

He thrashed around and he felt men pile up on top of him. The Elf could still kick and buck like a possessed thing and he was fighting his way free when a cold voice he had heard before said, "struggle anymore Elf and your friend gets his throat cut. Not only that, you will get to watch."

Legolas wondered which friend the man was talking about. When he saw Roth being held by his hair with his head tipped back he resisted the urge to take a sharp intake of breath. He could see Rothinzil was still struggling, even with the knife being pressed into his throat.

Legolas felt pain in his shoulders as the shear pressure of bodies pressed him down. The links pinched his skin and he went limp, collapsing into the snow. He sighed in temporary defeat and Calmir came forward. He placed his boot toe through the net and placed it under the prince's chin. "I must say I thought that they would kill you. But I also have to tell you I am glad I was wrong." He kicked Legolas in the face roughly, "you know why we wanted to catch you earlier Elf? You are a fighter and we were thinking that we could mold you into something more befitting..."

Legolas licked his now bleeding lip, tasting the coppery tang and said, "you mean an arena slave?" He did not even look up from the snow. "A prizefighter? An animal? A raving corruption of life?"

He heard Calmir's cruel laugh and the thief said, "having that attitude will do you no favors Elf. And since you caused us to loose the horses and killed so many of our men, tonight we shall have to reward you. Remember Elf, it's an eye for an eye."

Calmir's voice turned to one filled with much scorn and bitterness. "You won't be around to see me hang Elf. I can guarantee you that." He kicked Legolas in the side and the prince withheld a grunt of pain.

"Strider will come for me, _I _can guarantee_ you _that," snapped the prince with a bitterness of his own. He shifted beneath the mass of men that were pressing themselves upon the Elf to hold him to the ground. Legolas then spat out insultedly, "I will thank you to stop calling me 'Elf'!" The last remark went ignored.

"You mean that scrawny ranger that was with you and your little Elf friend?" Calmir laughed loudly with ice and steel lacing his voice and said, "I don't think so. Kushor has taken care of him. But I will let him tell you in gruesome detail how he died." He paid no heed to the struggling being's request and Legolas just rolled his silver blue eyes in complete annoyance.

But then reality set in and he said nothing...at first. He just let the silence speak for him, he was mourning his friend's death. But he kept his face stony and though tears formed behind his eyes he did not cry. Crying was what you did when you despaired or were in extreme pain. Right now he was in shock and all he could say was, "no. You lie."

"Maybe he is alive," admitted the man with a sigh that almost seemed counterfeit and it was completely bereft of pity. Then an evil glint came into his eyes and he said, "and even if he is alive, you will be miles away wishing you were never born before he even begins to realize where you have got off to."

The blonde Elf felt his color fading from his features and knew he had to look as crushed as he felt inside to think of them killing his friend and Aragorn dying alone and without saying a final good-bye to his brothers, or to anyone. If Aragorn really was dead he would never see his best friend again. Not unless he died as well and Mandos permitted it. The thought frightened him and though he was warm in the cloak and tunics, he felt his marrow go chill.

_He had just been walking with me? How could he be dead? No! It can't be true. They are lying. He got away and he's coming back for me. He would never let me or Roth get hurt. No, he is coming back for us, I cannot believe he is dead unless I see his body. He has a destiny to fulfil, so he can't die. _

All these rationalizations went through the blonde Elf's mind and he hung onto each and every one of them as the men dragged the chain net off of him and pulled him up by his hair. Legolas so much in shock he didn't even struggle really. The prince fought some, but a savage kick in his gut ended that quickly and he doubled over to his knees.

A sharp movement near him caused Legolas to look over and see Rothinzil showed into the snow roughly beside him. The other's face was no longer fearful, although he knew that Roth was scared, it was wrathful and perilous to look upon. The younger Elf's eyes were lit with a deadly fire and Legolas noticed that several men had their hands pressed onto Rothinzil's shoulders. At least he knew Roth was not in any form of intense physical pain at the moment.

Calmir stood before both of the Elves and his face was glowing with perverted amusement at their pain and frustration. Legolas then noticed that the man was a bit taller than he had once thought and that this mortal definitely looked like one who is used to getting what he wished and was not beyond using any kind of means to get to it.

Legolas jerked his head away with more indignation than Rothinzil thought he was susceptible to as Calmir ran his hand through some of the prince's golden hair. The mortal's face was vexatiously smug in the Elves' eyes. Calmir's lips turned upward with indulgence situated at his defenseless captive's ire.

The prince looked about him with eyes of emotionless blue ice. He snarled, "when my father finds out about this, you will be the ones wishing you had never been born!"

Calmir came closer to the prince and said, "nobody will ever know where you went. You will just be missing Elf, you and your friend." He drew out his sword and looked at its sharp edges eerily and with a sense of deep foreboding. "You had better hope nobody comes for you, or they will be dead and that includes your ranger friend."

One of the men near the Elf began to place a rope about the fair being's neck to act as a leash. Calmir stopped him and said, "he isn't going to be awake for this trip. Neither is the other one." Legolas had no time to ponder what this meant beyond him obviously being knocked out in some fashion before he saw spots and felt a pain in the back of his head. And then he felt another pain and his world dimmed into black and peaceful nothingness took over.

Roth saw them hit his prince over the head with a club and he only had time to gape before he suffered the same treatment.In seconds everything was black for the Elves and the men around them flashed a few quick smiles.

Calmir looked at the two limp Elves lying side by side on top of the snow. "I will not risk them evading us a second time." He looked over to the crest of the hill and saw Kushor stumbling back.

He did not have to be told. The ranger had to be dead. If he was not dead, why would only Kushor be returning? The ranger was not going to be coming for the Elves. They were alone and that was just how he wanted it.

"So we must carry these damn Elves?" asked one of the men angrily as he began to drag Legolas up from the ground by his arms. He shot a fiery look towards Calmir who was glaring at him with dark eyes of deep observation and calculating malevolence.

"Do you think that they are going to walk?" he snapped irately. "Pick him up and sling him over your shoulder. Don't worry, we will have fun with them when we get to the mines." He smiled coldly and said, "then after that I will become more wealthy than father could ever have dreamed of."

Legolas felt himself flung over the man's shoulders, for though he had been hit, it had not been enough to keep him out for as long as the men could wish. But the words the men spoke did not even mean anything to him. He was so dazed that everything that was happening seemed of no importance and it seemed to him that he was watching these goings on from within the safety of a bubble.

It had not yet crossed his mind that bubbles can be broken, though he knew this fact and so for the moment even though he knew he was far from safe, he felt shielded from pain, misery and fear. The Elf prince closed his eyes and then he knew no more.

> > > >

Glorfindel and Erestor looked up at the cliff's steep wall. The Gondolin Elf sighed and knew that there was no way that they could get over it. It was impossible and so he had already made his mind up not try. Erestor just scowled and said, "So now what do we do? We can't turn back, Elrond would kill us! We can't go forward, unless we can fly!"

Glorfindel mumbled, "if you can't say anything encouraging or amusing, please just say nothing at all! I am trying to think!" _Perhaps we are not trapped. The cliff does not run far. If we followed it to the left as we stand facing it, then we may have a chance of going around it and thus onto our journey. It is worth a try anyway. _

_But that will take some four miles out of our way. Oh well, if we don't try we are dead. _"Erestor we are going to go around. It will only take us four miles out of our way. I know however, that is not on the map. This knowledge comes from experience and Erestor you are going to have to blindly trust me."

Erestor just looked at the snow and said, "me? Blindly follow you? Glorfindel, we...I...it isn't going to work!" he fumed. "When we get to Thranduil's Halls I will be so relieved I will kiss the floor!"

"You will?" asked Glorfindel with a thin smile. "Good. I will inform Elrond that you need to be replaced on charges of insanity! I will also make sure to tell Thranduil that he needs to keep his floors exceptionally clean during your stay." He strapped his bow along with the quiver onto his back and buckled it. Then, he picked his sword up off the ground and sheathed it. Suddenly a smile burst across his face and he looked at Erestor, "who ever taught you to use a sword then?"

Erestor frowned, "my father. Why?" He narrowed his eyes into dark slits of questionable anger and Glorfindel frowned slightly as he spoke,

"You are a bit rusty is all." The Gondolin Elf looked at the slain warg and gestured to it, "when she got above you, had you known what you were doing, you could have slain her."

Erestor just looked at Glorfindel and said, "I am a counselor. Never before have I even considered killing unless it be in my thought towards you my Lord Glorfindel." Knitting his brows and casting wrinkles on his usually smooth forehead, he asked incredulously, "and you could teach me how to fight? That is surprising, but why would I want to learn from one who is constantly coming back in need of stitches, medication and bandages might I ask?"

Glorfindel said, "I could, were we back in Rivendell and all was well. But not here, we need to move on. Staying in one place too long can be dangerous Erestor. Goblins can come up on you swiftly. You really have never done something like this before, have you?" He choose to ignore the other comment about his death and constant injuriesthat had been made against him, but he would not forget it and if Erestor was lucky he would decide not to retaliate.

"Yes, I have. But it was long ago and it was my journey to Imladris from my home in Hollin." Erestor looked a little sad and Glorfindel did not press the issue. This was another side of Erestor that he seldom saw.It was a little bit unnerving.

Shrugging his shoulders to make the quiver and bow rest easier on them, the golden-haired Elf said, "we had best keep moving if we wish to enter Thranduil's Halls in one piece." Erestor said nothing, but shouldered his bag of maps and then went to the corner to pick up the small pack of inconsequential supplies they had. It was manly consisting of Lembas bread and cordial should one get hurt. There was also one spare cloak and two blankets that rolled up incredibly small as was their design, but kept so warm it was like you were in bed.

Erestor frowned and said, "and I suppose before we even get there we will have to deal with those beastly giant spiders! How can they live so close to those things?" He then went to where the warg lay dead and seeing his sword hilt sticking out from beneath the warg, he gripped it and pulled his weapon out.

As he sheathed it, he looked at the warg. Her claws were huge and her eyes were still open, yellow and yet cloudy now with death. Her teeth were still fierce and her lips were curled into a bloody snarl. He was waiting for her to lunge up and sink her long fangs into his throat.

Glorfindel came over and said, "don't worry. She is dead." He nudged her with his foot and Erestor snapped,

"I know that! Now lets get moving!"

Glorfindel shook his head. "You looked like she was going to get up and bite you."

Erestor brushed past him and turned around with a gaze that was pierced with annoyance and anger. "Looks are deceiving Glorfindel, "he answered thickly. Pivoting on his heel, the raven-haired Elf walked stiffly ahead and Glorfindel watched him go for a moment before following.

**TBC... Now the summary will begin to take place in the chapters to come. Yeah, we know...that is a bit annoying, but better late than never. **

**Could you could dropa reviewin before Saturday, it would really make our morning/day! Thanks a lot! **

**-hug resistingreviewers and wink pointedly at lurkers- LOL **

**Review responses:) _Hannon le mellonins! _**

**Nefhiriel:** Hey! So you like how we portray the friendship? That's great! Thanks a lot. It is hard to do accurately at times so when you say that it makes us feel as though we have succeeded! LOL Yes, well, he only gets more interesting, trust us. About co-authoring...no real tips...except don't make your friend(s) angry becaue then they can lock you out of theaccount (we know)and just e-mail each other the ideas with a format with the title:...author:...summary:...story line/ideas: thanks for the review:)

**Deana:** Yes! But as always...the troubles nver seem to end for them, do they? LOL

**Snow Glory:** yes...the calm before the storm. Well put! Glad you noticed how we made the weather concur with the emotions. Yes! Ph there is no doubt that Glorfindel and Erestor are setting a bad example, nay, a horrible example. But just wait and see.

**Marie Delcore:** Yes you did tell us that. Well...you were right! Yes...the ranger is in for his fair share of angst! -grabs fleeing ranger- Hu-uh! You aren't going anywhere! Us? _Lots_ of reviews? How sweet, but actually Nili and Cassia are the ones with lots.

**Astievia:** We haven't heard that song but yes, Glorfy and Erestor had better get another plan, because that just isn't going to work! LOL Well, they of course don't have any Elvish Rope because they forgot it due to having overly much fun baiting each other.


	10. Though You're not Here

_**CHAPTER TEN **_

_Though You're Not Here_

_'Where am I? Where is Aragorn? _

_He is dead. _

_No. He can't be, because I live. How can he be dead and I am not? And if he should be dead, Why is he and I am not? Was it me he tried to save and fell for? Or did he really try to run and was cut down. No he wouldn't run. _

_See, you doubt. _

_I do not doubt him or what happened! Aragorn lives! He is alive! No1 He cannot be dead! He said he would be back for me, he promised and he would never break a promise. He promised he would not let them hurt me anymore and would never break a promise if it were in his power to keep it! _

_But it is out of his power now. He is useless and so are you. You are weak and alone. You know he was killed, because of you! If he didn't have you for a friend he could have ran away and lived, but he stayed and died for you. _

_No. He lives, I can feel it. _

_But not so strong. It fades in and out like the tide and burns you with unbearable anguish; the knowledge of your friend's death. _

_He is not dead and he will come for me. I won't have to be here any longer. How can he be dead when I live/ He can't, not now, not here. You lie to me. My own fears lie to me and I will not fall for it. He lives and I will see him again. _

_Unless you die first and never get to see your father, or Rothinzil again. Or see Imladris and the friends you have that dwell there in peace. Will they even miss you Legolas Greenleaf Thranduillion? _

_Yes! And they will not let me fade into memory! They love me as a brother! But where is Roth? Where am I? Aragorn has to be here! He was with me! ARAGORN!' _

Legolas blinked as he opened his eyes, but it made no difference, everything was still dark. He could hear voices and tried to move, but he felt heavy chains around his wrists and ankles. He had forgotten the pain of his wrists from the cuffs that he had placed on them earlier in Farlost. Now the pain was more than doubled.

But that was not the most horrible feeling. Something was on his neck. It felt hot and itchy. He felt like it was choking him and his heavily weighed down hands went to his neck and touched the strange object. He winced in shock as he felt something prick his finger, a spike of some sort.

It was then that he realized that he had a collar on. He was not frightened yet. He did not know what was going on and was not going to fear as long as he had no need to. As he tried to sit up, he felt the horrible thing tug at his throat and realized that it had a chain on it. He was being kept like a dog.

His ankles were free. The Elf whispered in the dark, "Roth? Strider?" The silence was loud as he waited for the much-wanted answer that never came. He was alone. He whispered, "anybody?" Still no answer. The dark pressed in and he felt himself trembling with fear, fear of the unknown. Was he the only one alive? Had they killed Rothinzil? Or were they all just separated?

"Is there anyone out there?" he shouted into the blackness. There was still no answer. Where was Rothinzil? What were they doing to him? Legolas tried to stand up, but the collar and chain were too short and it was plain that they were meant to hold an animal.

He felt it choke him and holding him low to the ground, keeping him near the dirt where he was expected to stay. It made him angry and he shouted, "who is here? Where am I?" At first there was an eerie silence, but then that ended in a low growl that came from the prince's left.

Legolas looked to his left in alarm and the growl turned into a malicious bark and an evil howl. The Elf knew that noise. A warg was here with him in the pitch dark. He tried to back away, but his collar hampered him. So this was their torment? He was to be a warg's play toy?

He could feel the creature's hot breath on his face and stared into the darkness. It continued barking like a mad thing, which it probably was. But, it never attacked. The blonde Elf could hear it's nails scraping the floor and its snapping jaws. It too was chained and it made Legolas even angrier to know he was placed in the company of a warg and yet separated from his friends.

He saw a light above and it shined down, causing him to blink. A door was opened above and men were coming down. It seemed he was hidden away in some sort of cellar to a large barn or some such place. He saw lanterns being lit and torches cast alight.

When the light was cast, Legolas saw that he was in some sort of shaft. Around, in cages, were animals; wargs, wild boars with fierce tusks, bulls with sharp horns and wolves along with dogs and a giant spider. In the far corner was a dungeon like cage and in the corner he saw another creature. It was small and looked nearly human, but he could not see it and his attention were diverted to his right.

Rothinzil lay on the floor in peaceful unconsciousness and his black hair was fallen over his pale face and it sifted through the spikes in long strands of midnight. His chest rose and fell methodically and yet he never stirred.

Straight ahead was a door of thick wood that led into another tunnel. They were in an old mining shaft, he realized. For in the walls were still some traces of gold or silver, glistening like lost and forgotten stars. This was still a place where gold was held in high worth and where it constantly changed hands.

Beyond that door, he could here voices and screaming, along with barks of animals and he knew what this was. He was going to have to fight. Here, lost in this dark and cryptic world until he faded or died in a battle to the death, watched by hundreds, loved by none. He would have to be here until he died alone.

But not alone. Roth was here, he would have a friend. But he knew that they would be separated and he knew that Roth, with his gentle spirit, would not last long. Roth would die of a broken heart if he was not slain first. Legolas knew that his dark-haired friend would sooner die than kill for the pleasure of others. He looked at Roth and felt his anger rise further, for he hated to see his friend's innocence and gentle spirit possibly destroyed. Why did men have to fear what they did not understand and hurt or kill it to make themselves feel better?

The men came to look at the prince that was on his knees, weighed down by the collar and the iron spikes that had been placed on his neck for his protection as much as his torment. While the collar on none would dare to go for his once defenseless neck, fearing that the horrid spikes would prick them.

As Calmir looked into the Elf's eyes he saw anger and abhorrence glittering in them. But he also saw doubt. That was a weak point he had to strike at. Smiling, he asked, "time to have some fun Elf."

Legolas looked up at the man and then his hands went to his collar and he began to grip it between the spikes, bitterly pulling at it. But it did not loosen and Legolas panted for air. The men all laughed and Calmir said, "what's wrong Elf? Not liking the dark and the pretty collar about your pretty little neck?" He walked over and taking a key from his belt, he unlocked the chain from the steak it was attached to in the ground.

He pulled and forced the Elf to get to his feet or choke himself. Legolas snapped, "you are cruel and I will never serve you. You can kill me first."

Calmir smiled and said, "but that is what you don't understand Elf. You are mine and I will do what I want with you." He pulled the chains more and Legolas did not move. The Elf pulled back and dug his heels into the ground. However, he could not hold this for long, the collar was biting him and he would have to let go or break his neck. But he was making his statement.

Someone shoved him from behind and he jerked forward, but the chains made him awkward and he fell at the feet of the man he was expected to call master. Calmir smiled and Legolas glared daggers at him before spitting on his feet. Calmir's eyes lit with a deadly fire and he kicked hard and brutal. Legolas felt his lips swell from where the boot had connected with it he gave a small cry.

Calmir knelt down and gripped the prince's collar between the spikes, hauling him up by his neck, "I do not wish to break you Elf, it makes your value go down. But I can do it or take your life."

The warg nearby growled and Calmir kicked at its face. It yelped and coward down to grovel. It had been beaten badly before and it was more than obvious that it held great respect for these men and for all human kind. Legolas vowed he would not stoop that low, he would not grovel. He also noted than Calmir liked to kick.

Calmir looked at the men around him and said, "get that other one awake. It is time to teach them who the leader is and where their place is!"

Kushor went and he grabbed Roth's limp body rolled the Elf over. Then, he grabbed a bucket of icy water, he dumped it all over the dark-haired Elf and then slapped Roth's face harshly. The dark-haired Elf fluttered his eyes open and he asked deliriously, "Wh-wha-what is go-goi-going on?" He stared around as though he was dazed, which he was and when he saw Legolas looking at him he frowned and asked, "wh-where are we mellon nin?"

Kushor slapped him in the face and Roth bit back a cry of surprise and reborn fear that chilled him. He shuddered and felt his teeth chatter a little. It was cold already and now that he was soaked, it was positively miserable. The man snarled, "no using that snake like tongue here master Elf. Next time your punishment will be severe." Roth was wide-awake now and he saw the white like look on Legolas' face and knew that something horrible was about to happen.

Calmir just chuckled and said, "lets go now." He began to drag the prince by the accursed collar and Legolas stumbled along behind as they were lead into a back room that Legolas could tell was a training room and it reeked of old and fresh blood. It filled his nostrils with a metallic odor and made his stomach do flips and his senses sharpen to a painful point.

Calmir dragged him over to where there was leather thongs attached to a pole marked with former and new blood. Legolas felt his heart enter his throat and yet he refused to tremble even though inside he was shaking like a leaf. Something told him this was going to be the first phase of horrible pain to come and he closed his eyes. He could feel the men ripping him free of his tunics and cloak, tossing them into a heap on the floor. The Elf shivered with cold and cringed inwardly in anticipation to what he was in for as the leather ropes were threaded around his wrists and pulled painfully tight.

His hands were above his head now and his back to the men. The prince rested his forehead against the smooth wood and drew in a shaking breath. He would not scream and he would not give in, they could beat him to death first. But that was a scary and horrible thought. He knew if they even started that and he got a chance, he would go mad and end his own life.

Roth looked at Legolas as he was forced to his knees before the prince and his head held in place so he could always see his prince's face that was contorted with fear. "Legolas..." he breathed in horror. "Oh, no." He closed his eyes and shivered. He knew now what it was like to be beaten by men now and he knew the things that scarred the prince's life.

The man holding his head in place by his chin, Kushor, laughed as he felt Roth's unmistakable shivers and said, "stay awake my gentle little Elf. You get to watch it all and enjoy every minute and if you miss some, we can do it all over again."

Roth opened his now bleary eyes, filmed by unspilled tears that burned as though someone had set his eyes aflame. Legolas whispered to him, "stay strong my friend. I don't want to see you break in front of me. You can do it, please don't cry for me. I will be well. Just don't succumb to what they want, we can get past this." Legolas said this with a whole lot more conviction than he had a whole lot more than what he felt.

Roth nodded and watched as Calmir took a cruel looking whip with little barbs on the end and then he drew it back and brought it down hard across the prince's slender and yet muscular shoulders. It stole the prince's breath and he closed his eyes in agony. He could feel the cursed barbs bite and burn his skin with a pain he had never felt. Now he knew why blood marked this post, but whose blood was it? He pressed his head against the wood harder and prayed, _take me now Elbereth, take me now. I don't want to die, but I don't want to live now either. They will use me and break me. I know they will. Claim me first. Please. I don't want Roth or Aragorn to see me when they are finished, they will not know me. I would have them remember me this way rather than after I am broken and changed. _

The lash struck again and the prince was caught unawares. He hissed and fell against the post, but shoved himself hastily away, lest they should see his pain and take joy from it. He opened his eyes with horrible pain as a barb caught his flesh in another blow and tore his back. He looked at Roth and the other Elf looked as though he was ready to cry.

Roth's chin quivered as he watched his best friend and really, older foster brother, suffer at the hands of these cruel, stupid and absolutely heartless men. He wished he could stop the pain if he willed it all away, but if he could not feel the pain he would go numb and if he went numb, what would be left to hold onto? Nothing, for he would have no heart, hearts feel pain unless they are broken and blistered. He had not fallen that far and he would rather be slain then do so.

More and more blows fell like rain upon the helpless Elf bound by raw and bleeding wrists to the post, a prisoner of pain undeserved. Legolas could feel his own blood running down his back in small red rivers. He closed his eyes, not willing to let Roth see the intense pain reflected behind them. The blows were becoming heavier and they bit and stung twice as hard as before. "Whom do you serve Elf?" asked Calmir in a stony voice as he watched Legolas raise his head and spit back,

"I serve none, save King Thranduil." He wasn't about to say that was his father. But it was becoming so much harder to answer against what Calmir was tormenting him into speaking. It was so very hard and he was more than ready to give in, but he did not want to die knowing that he had failed. He would rather die knowing that he did well and did not give in; that he had passed the test appointed to him. He wanted to tell Mandos that he was not a craven had been true to the death.

Roth was trembling with the effort not to look away lest his prince should have to endure it all over again. Legolas gave him a sharp look that plainly was telling the younger Elf to straighten up and die right. Roth did, but he was reluctant to do so. He was beginning to break down.

Calmir looked at Legolas and said in a sardonic tone of remorse, "sorry, wrong answer." Legolas cringed as he felt a barb bite into his flesh and he could have sworn it had hit his spine, save for the fact he still had feeling. The man grinned and asked Roth smoothly, "so, who to you serve?" He toyed with the whip behind the prince and Legolas mouthed the answer out for Roth, but it was hardly needed.

"I serve none save King Thranduil, his son, Prince Legolas and the other powers of good," he hissed in a firm voice that was deceivingly strong sounding. Legolas could tell that Roth's tower of strength was near ready to topple over and shatter. Roth trembled but did not look away as Calmir struck Legolas again, striking another ugly bleeding welt that had already been there and causing Legolas to blanch. As young Rothinzil saw Legolas turning an unhealthy white, he felt his heart wrench and nearly stop. He wished it would stop, he wanted to die. Oh, how he wanted to die.

Legolas wanted to die too, but something inside him just would not quit. But he wished that he would fade.

Then, going to the front of the blonde prince, the human said, "where is your ranger now?" He gripped Legolas' pale face to make the immortal meet his eyes. Legolas met his gaze head on as the man said, "where is he Elf? I will tell you: he is dead."

"No," breathed the blonde Elf sharply through pain that was so intense it was mind-boggling. Legolas jerked his head roughly away and pushed back tears of emotional agony. He pressed his forehead against the wood again so hard that he would not be surprised if he had the wooden patterns imprinted upon his pale forehead. The barbs had hurt, but this man speaking of Aragorn's death as though it was something to be widely acclaimed made the Elf's blood boil. Using Aragorn against him bit deep into the Elf's heart; it went so deep that it hurt.

"But he is, and he is not coming here for you Elf. You and your friend here are alone," said the man coldly, "this I can promise you."

Legolas spat, "you lie."

Calmir kicked Rothinzil aside sharply and grabbing Legolas' bonds, he twisted them so the Elf was with his back to the post and his hands turning blue from lack of circulation. "You are mine now Elf. Until the day I die and you linger you will be mine. Unless you die or I am forced to kill you."

Roth tried to get up from where he had been kicked harshly to the ground, but Kushor held the black-haired Elf down and whispered, "unless you want it to go worse for your friend, I suggest you lie still." Legolas heard those words and looked at the other Elf with a look that said, 'forget about me fight them.'

This Rothinzil would not do and he looked away like Legolas had never said anything.

Legolas just frowned and stared at the man with iced over eyes. "I am no ones." With that, he struck his feet out, catching the mortal's legs and the man went down into a stumbling heap onto the floor.

When he stood up, he was smiling and this vexed the prince bitterly, but what more could he do? "Elf, I think you are ready." He looked at Kushor and said, "if they lose too much blood, they will not be able to fight." He switched his piercing glance to Roth and sneered "or if they have a nervous break down."

Then he said, "but your training will be harder as you harden in this place and we can be nice if you surrender to our will. But you aren't going to do that, are you?" he spat.

Legolas just glared and then hissed as pain shot through his spine, shoulders and arms from the position he was in.

_Aragorn, if you are alive, come save us soon please. I know I am not alone. I know you are well, but where are you? I need you now, so where did you go? You always said you would be here for me, but you aren't. I can't feel you by my side. But don't worry, I will wait for you. I know you will come and take Roth and I away from here. But be careful, they mean to take your life mellon nin and if it comes down to it, I would rather they take mine. But save Roth, I could not bear it if he died, though I am sure he thinks the same of you or me. _

Then Legolas began to think, training...so they were being trained, but for what? To be cold blooded killers able to deal out swift and merciless death without so much as a thought to the one whose life was taken. But why would the life be taken? For the pleasure of men. He could not understand how people found pleasure in others' pain and death, how they could watch with grinning faces as one drew his last breath but didn't die for another ten minutes because his lungs were filled with blood.

To them Elves were animals and unworthy of freedom, unworthy of life and yet born to take way others. These were the hands he and Rothinzil had fallen into and now he began to wonder; did he really want Aragorn to come here and save him?

Perhaps, if Aragorn was dead, it would be better that way.

He knew that the man would come after him and Roth. That was now the scariest part of this place. His friend was coming here to get him and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Aragorn was walking into a clever trap and he would die now, for Legolas knew he was not dead and the men lied.

Legolas was taking a leap of faith. He had no other choice...did he?

Aragorn raised his head slowly from the snow, and looked with bleary eyes about the darkening and cold world he had awoken to. As he looked at the spot where his head had been, he saw crimson sunbursts in the snow; his blood.

_What happened?_

A sharp pain blazed up his shoulder and neck. He winced and his right hand went to his left shoulder where he felt something long sticking from the more fleshy part of his limb. _An arrow? But why? _

He felt the blood running down his sleeve and tunic, still hot. The small of coppery salt entered his nose and his grimaced slightly before rising to a rough sitting position and leaning back against the large tree he had found himself lying by.

Memory flooded back and he knew all of what had happened, save how he had gotten to where he was.

_He had yelled for his friends to run, but of course, the Elves had not. Or rather they had but towards him and towards the danger. They did not know of the trap meant for them and so he had tried to warn them, but they did not listen. They never listened, he mused. _

_He had tried to fight the many men, but there had been too many and then one came that challenged every skill he had ever known. He had thought he was going under and that it was the end many times. _

_At last when he had been driven back up to the crest of the hill, the other drew out his bow and Aragorn watched as a projectile was released to find its way into his shoulder. _

_He knew then he had stumbled from the shear impact and he felt pain coursing his left arm. But then he hit something...a tree? He thought so, but he was not certain. He knew that if it had been a tree he had hit many more on the way down the hill not unlike the one he was resting against now. _

What had befallen Legolas and Roth? He did not think they were dead, for the last time when they had been attacked the men had only tried to capture the Elves, not slay them. The fact that the Elves were wanted alive was slightly more disturbing than them being wanted dead...slightly. Neither sounded very appealing now that the man ran the facts through his mind once more.

Drawing a deep breath, the ranger looked around at the snowy world and tried to stand up, but his body was shaking from cold and blood loss and on coming shock of the injury. He gripped the tree for support and closed his eyes, gathering up what will he could find through his daze. It was actually a rather astounding amount building up inside considering the circumstances he was under. However, getting it to group and be directed to something that would cause him only more pain than giving up and dying would was a little difficult, but for him by no means infeasible.

He looked up the precipitous hill that was glittering with ice, slick and treacherous. He would have to struggle up that. Falling down was easier and the more whimsical part of his being said a whole lot less painful. Well...that was not always entirely true, but in this case, he mused, it most definitely was.

He staggered forward a few weak steps and nearly fell flat. His wound was still bleeding and if he did nothing to stop it he would bleed to death before he even made it to the top. But he did not have time to treat such a wound. The arrowhead was still in the wound, buried and there was no hope of getting it out at this point in time. He knew a good sized artery had to have been severed, for blood was pulsing out from around the arrow tip and staining his tunics, cloak and the snow with a deep scarlet color.

There was only one thing that he could do, and that was to tie it off at the shoulder, However, he knew he would lose complete control of that arm for a time and perhaps forever. But he was not going to let that interfere with his mission. Fear could not hold him back. Legolas and Roth would be strong for him and he had to for them.

He then began to wonder how the men had been able to capture the said Elves. Legolas or Roth would have had to have been hurt. Rothinzil was a klutz, but in a fight he knew what he was doing and could be as deadly as the next Something had to have gone horribly wrong.

One of them had to be wounded and hurting badly for that to happen, have they had been distracted. Aragorn knew that if the prince had known he was in danger then Thranduil's son would have been disturbed and slowed in a fight. Roth would have been distressed enough about Legolas to be awkward, and chances were that if there was any leverage, it was Roth's life or Legolas' captivity. In which case Aragorn knew that both of the Elves were being held alive.

Aragorn struggled on a few more hard and painful steps that tested his resolve greatly and his will not to scram. The pain was stunning and he came to what was left of an old withered tree, the made reached into his boot to pull out his dagger. It was simple but sharp as any. Taking it, he ripped a two-foot strip from his weather-stained cloak and then grimaced as he thought about what he was going to have to do.

After much annoying attempts through trial and error, he finally managed to get the blasted thing to wrap and stay tightly on his arm. He felt sick when he lost total feeling in his left and arm and he pushed down fears of his own pain and problems. Legolas and Rothinzil were in dire danger, and if he did not go after them, who would? No one, or at least not in time.

Yes, he was sure his father had at least sent Glorfindel to Mirkwood simply because he did not come home and his father was probably retraining himself from strangling the Gondolin Elf. But the Elves would never be able to pick up the trail before the winds changed and tracks were covered. Or at least he doubted it, but then again, Glorfindel was often full of odd surprises and techniques for tracking he learned years ago before the world was changed.

If Aragorn did not go for Legolas and Rothinzil, they were lost and left to torment and a bitter death. Legolas had nearly died for him, why could he not do the same for the blonde Elf? What did an Elf have more to give than his immortal life for a friend who would eventually die anyway? An Elf had nothing and so Aragorn should be willing to sacrifice all he had too. This did not need to be said, it was obvious in the ranger's heart.

But Legolas never looked at it that way, that Aragorn would ever die and that if the prince had to give his life up that he was giving it up for a mortal. He saw it as Aragorn being immortal too and never dying. Maybe it was out of denial that his closest friend would ever be parted from him forever or perhaps out of faith that the man would always live in his heart. It is hard to say.

Kixer and his men began to round up the horses into the newly fixed pen, tossing hay and straw over the fences to help lure the beasts in and calm them as they ate.

But two horses, a solid gray mare and a dapple stallion, refused to go into the pen as they were cornered in the opening. They bucked and pranced madly. The animal's nostrils flared and always their heads faced back to the trail of foot-prints and crushed snow.

They would not allow a rope of halter to touch their hide much less hold them back and they snorted and neighed. Kixer looked at the two beasts and said to his men thoughtfully, "these cannot be ours. They are too fair and much too wild for one of us to tame." He sighed as he watched them prance and frolic all about in the snow. Their ears twitched and they pawed the ground anxiously.

"They are the horses of Elves or I am a fool." His eyes followed them a little longer and he said at length, "release them. They are not ours to keep; may they bless the beings that ride them."

Legolas, Rothinzil nor Aragorn had returned. He hoped some evil had not befallen them, but he was not ready to go back and find out. Perhaps they had been part of the whole scheme and had left with the horse thieves, But now that he had spent time with the Elves and the ranger he could not find it in his heart to accuse them of such a crime again. No, he knew something was wrong. It was feeling in the pit of his stomach that rose as he watched the horses swiftly kick up the powdery snow, galloping off to the aid of their masters and friends.

He felt so horrible, yet his place was here. There were many graves to dig and many widows and children to see through the winter. Every man would be needed and every helping hand encouraged. But in his heart he was trying to find a reason to leave.

One of his men came up and said, "sir, no sign of those Elves and ranger?" His gaze connected with his senior's and Kixer shifted uncomfortably.

"They know what they are doing. I am sure they will be here. Don't you have some work that you could be doing?" he asked stiffly as his eyes watched the horizon, hoping to see three figures walking on its edge; he saw none.

Shutting the gate to the corral, he began to walk fixedly back towards the inner part of the town, his home, his people. But his heart forebode that this was not the last time he would see the Elves but he also had a sinking suspicion that when he saw them again they may not be alive.

He would have to talk to Lord Ryxen about this, but not now; now he needed to re-gather his thoughts. So many introspects were in his mind that it blurred his contemplation and he needed to rest. It had been a long couple of days and he wondered if half of it had been imaginary.

**TBC...Well, our incredible lust for reviews has only achieved in growing and well...you know what that means. **

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**And finally we are getting to the good old ranger angst! See we haven't killed him...yet! **

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**Next post: Wednesday! (hopefully) **

**_Review responses:)_**

**Deana: **Oh yes, but isn't it such fun when they get into major trouble? LOL Yes, our Elf is in a deep sense of vertigo right now. LOL Poor thing! Thanks for the review!

**Linuvial Greenleaf: **Hey friend! Yes...and there are only more angsty possibilities to come. We are actually beginning to lean towards ranger pain and pushing our little blonde Elf aside. Although we are sure he doesn't mind. LOL But anyway...oops! We had no idea we were spelling it wrong. -bad us!- Thank you s-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o much for telling us! It honestly means a lot! We put a lot of things off until the last minute, including original work and school projects not being the least (some how is too addictive or something). Special note from Celeb: your cover might be very well be finished by Christmas or New Years! Depends on what is going on in school. Thanks for the review!

**Astievia: **You saw Toby Mac? That is incredibly cool! Our favorite songs of his are 'Irene' and 'Phenomenon'. He is the coolest and you are so blessed! -grin enviously- Wow! Anyway...you are getting ahead of the story! Tin: -pokes Celeb- now you have to change it! Celeb: -shakes head- well...perhaps not...-evil grin- guess Astievia will have to wait and see (pay back for seeing Toby Mac while we couldn't! LOL). We try to update often, but is weird and of course that is old news, but we have to rant about it to someone. LOL Thanks for the awesome review!

**Snow Glory: **Thanks for reviewing!Yes, your Elf is in big trouble. -1? That's only about 30 degrees here. Still cold enought hough. LOL Oh...hehehehehe...you caught our error too. Thanks a lot for telling us. Its people like that who make writing such a fun learning experience. Thanks for the review.

**Leela 74: **Thanks for reviewing. Your reviews are always so sweet!Doesn't math just suck? LOL Glad you like the little Elf. LOL Thanks for that nice little review and good luck on all your exams and such.

**elitenschwein**Oh...that is why you review each chapter in bunches. Don't worry, we don't have it all the time either, or at least, not both of us do. We totally understand. We also have hectic schedules and hardly any time for anything...so we totally sympathize. But if it makes it easier (and you decide to review), you don't have to review every chapter singly. It can be one long review about all the chapters...a collective review or something. But then, if you are really short on time, don't make it harder on yourself by reviewing at all. We would understand. Yes, Erestor and Glorfindel do make the most sane cooporative companions, don't they? Not. LOL Sorry if this response is short, but we are extremely pressed. Thanks for the many delightful reviews.

**Marie Delcore:** Hey Mellon nin! Yes! Angst precious!

**Nefhiriel** Hey! Yes, well we try...ur DON'T try to leave cliffies and stuff. LOL Yes...update is a VERY important word! LOL Thanks for the review!

**Sorry if these are brief. But time is running out to get to first block class**. **If we missed someone, we didn't mean to, sorry. **


	11. Faith Just Seems So Small

_**There is a warning for this chapter: Get a a box of tissues handy. Just a thought, you know? **_

_**CHAPTER ELEVEN**_

_Faith Just Seems So Small_

Legolas resisted the nearly overwhelming urge to cough as he was shoved along through an intense crowd of people. The room was fogged with smoke, the stench of which inflamed the Elf's pulsing headache. Everything was spinning. Men were talking all at once and they were loud and obnoxious. As he looked at them he saw that they wee miners and ranged from mid thirties to upper sixties and seventies even.

The room was small and the walls were made of stone and wooden boards. It was an old mine shaft no longer in the service of its purpose, but being used as an underground chamber for the fighting arena. Lanterns lit the place, casting flickering reflections on the walls and odd shadows danced and paraded about the room.

As they watched the Elf being shoved through them in chains they could not help but stare at the tall, blond being. The fact that he was shirtless and his back streaked with welts and bruises lead them to believe he had to be fierce and terrible.

He saw men handing each other money as they cast their bets for the one whom they thought was going to be the winner. Legolas felt sick, but he also felt hardened and angry.

He found himself on the edge of a large pit with a straw covered bottom. He jerked away from the edge as he was pushed so his boot toes were already over it. His wide and degenerate blue eyes looked at Calmir, who was pressed up behind him. The man whispered into the Elf's ear, "once you are in that pit you are on your own. To survive you must win, if you loose, though you may survive the fight, I will personally slay you later, or make you wish you were dead. Am I clear?"

Legolas said with a snarl, "I will never fight for you. I do not kill for pleasure."

Calmir's face went expressionless and he asked, "do you kill to live?" Then he shoved Legolas over the edge just as on the other side a large warg was released. The man watched as the Elf took a defensive stance and watched the creature with vehement eyes. Crossing his arms, the man whispered, "I dare you to lose Elf; I dare you!"

Legolas did not wish to kill. No; he did not want to spill innocent blood. He felt like he was going to be ill and his strength wavered for a moment. The warg lunged with its maw gaping open and Legolas dodged, but he was not going to fight it. Yes; it would not be horrible to kill a warg, but where would the killing end? He wanted it to be over before it started.

He knew everybody was watching him and he felt utter loathing for the position he was in. He was not going to compromise himself and surrender his essence to their hands. He would die first. A promise lived within him now like a fierce fire and he was not going to let it burn out.

Legolas crouched as the warg leaped at him. Thinking he was going to be quick enough, The Elf tried to roll clear of the crushing monster he was insufficiently pitted against, but he was weary and the warg's long and thick claws ripped the flesh of his right hip and dragged down his leg to about the knee. He hissed and fell to the floor. But the warg was not finished with him and he watched with narrowed eyes as the beast growled and came at him again like a cat would a mouse. Legolas tried to get out of the way, but he had not the speed he used to have and he felt fear pulse through him in a wave as he realized he was still loosing strength in the crimson torrents of his blood.

Some time later, all was quiet.

The crowds were gone now and a lone figure lay in the straw, his own blood staining the ground around him. Legolas Greenleaf raised his eyes up to see smoke and dust filtering through the air near the lantern. His whole body hurt and his ripped leg was throbbing as well as pulsing rich blood. Hewas too weak to do much of anything, even breath.

He felt dizzy and kept his head against the ground, for fear if he shifted it, he would faint. His blonde hair hung in sweaty, wet clumps and strands over his neck and face which were clammy and cold with sweat that was as wet as water.

Calmir stood outside the pit, scowling darkly as he watched his prisoner. The Elf had not even tried, he did not deserve mercy. This blonde whelp did not deserve to live, but he knew that if he killed the Elf, that the fair being would be too close to a martyr for comfort. So what was he to do? The warg had had her way with him and Calmir was furious. Even that was a severe understatement. Words could not explain the depths of his devote wrath.

The leaped down into the pit and Legolas looked with out moving his head in the direction of the shuffling straw. Calmir just sneered, "so you lost Elf?" he asked in a growl.

As he walked over, he stared with cold and hard eyes at the prince's leg wound. Legolas drew a breath that made his body tremble. Breathing was a torment and Calmir knew it, but he was going to make this Elf's life a Hell for loosing. Going over, he drove his boot as hard as possible in the aching ribs of the blonde Elf.

The blow was stunning and Legolas gave a cry as he felt the agony pulse up and down his side and nearly stop all breathing. Calmir then bent down and gripped Legolas by his hair and yanked the Elf's head up with an unhealthy and dangerous look in his face. "You dared to defy me Elf?" he asked suspiciously.

Legolas said with some difficulty, "I do with all my being." Calmir slammed the Elf's head into the ground and the golden-haired fair-being saw stars before his eyes and for a moment he threatened to slide into black. But as he defied Calmir, he defied the darkness. He looked at the man and saw that Calmir's face was red with wrath.

"Do you enjoy life Legolas?" asked Calmir in a disquietingly calm voice. He snarled his fingers in the prince's hair and pulled the Elf's pale face up near his and said, "well you won't when I am finished with you. Remember this, you are nonessential and right now I am choosing to show you generosity." He then used the golden tresses as a handle to flip the prince onto his back and then he backslapped Legolas across the face.

Rising up, his dark and haunting glare never left the Elf. Legolas got back onto his stomach and tried to rise but his deep wound prevented it and he fell upon the aching and weaklimb. Calmir took upon the look of one that utterly loathes another and has no pity for that unfortunate being that was placed at his mercy. "You are a worthless Elf!"the man screamed at him.

He walked over to where the Elf was antagonistically trying to rise, and slammed his foot into the prince's side again. Legolas nearly faltered and coughed as he felt a rib crack at the impact. The Elf hit the earth and elevated his eyes to look at the man who wished no less than to see him writhing and screaming in agony. Legolas was _never_ going to give the satisfaction

Calmir laughed and said, "you are weak, but you will not die yet. No, you will not die here. You shall die in the mines, digging and pulling carts until your back breaks and your life's purpose is utterly spent."

Reaching down, he pulled Legolas up by his arm and when the prince's leg gave way he just said, "get up you lazy scum" He slammed his foot into the immortal's chest, finally tearing a cry from the prince. It was soft and low, but in this hollow place it echoed and Legolas felt shame begin to choke him.

Calmir drew back his boot again and struck with another vengeful and skillful impact on the chest of the prince but he missed a cry, for it never came. Legolas bit his tongue hard to suppress it. His eyes remained open, transfixed upon the man who was tormenting him. They were jaded, but strength hidden glittered behind them. "I will see that you dig up every once of money I lost in iron delved from these rocks!"

Legolas just went limp on the ground and Calmir grabbed his throat, "why don't you fight? Are you stupid, or just plain weak?" The man was thoroughly embarrassed. He had been humiliated in front of all the other men when his _Elf _was defeated by a _warg_! But that was not all of it. Now this lazy being was defying everything he was being tormented with and it was enough to make a haze of red go before Calmir's eyes.

Legolas spoke not a word, determined not to let this barbarian man get to him and he knew that his words would be twisted. There was no point in talking if one would not listen, so he did nothing but look up at Calmir with an emotionless face. This irked the human, who pressed in tighter on the helpless Elf's throat. He watched as the prince's irises grew and the black of his eyes swelled as well. Yet the face was still dead of emotion and he perceived that he would not ever be able to break this Elf.

Legolas had been through worse at the hands of orcs, but he was not going to give this man a goal to reach by coming forth and stating it. However, the way this man was acting, he was close enough to an orc already...Legolas feared he was resembling one a little too much for his comfort.

A serene yet scornful and nearly musical voice said from above, "you are going to strangle that Elf if you grip any tighter. Do you not want him alive?"

Both in the pit swiveled their eyes upward to see a young woman standing there. She had to be about twenty and she had long auburn hair that came down to her waist. Her eyes were a clear gray color that glittered with an ice like tone to them. She raised her chin and said, "give him time Calmir." She smiled and said, "everybody and everything says they will not fight, that is until they get into the ring once or twice and then they do; they fight with a vengeance." She quirked a slender red brow and said, "you know this. You have seen it before." She laughed with a cold timbre to her voice and said, "you are so inefficient."

"Sister, you do not belong here." His grip on Legolas' throat lessened and the Elf could breathe again. He watched this odd exchange between the two siblings with great interest. Calmir's hands had grown oddly cold and trembled slightly. "What are you doing here?"

"You left me at home to watch over a deserted farm, that of which a more accurate description would be 'chunk of worthless land'. To top that all off it is winter and all the men, including yourself, are here mining in the rocks for more rocks that aren't even worth much of anything anymore!" she seethed, a fire rising in her eyes with a deadly glow as her voice rose to a high and yet calm level. "Do you expect me stay there?" She all but spat at him; "you are a fool!"

Calmir frowned and snapped, "you should not be here! You need to leave!" He pressed Legolas to the ground and set a knee between the prince's shoulder blades. "This is none of your business! I command you to go home!"

The lady laughed again and it was heartless, "I am going no where! Do you think I am stupid?" she asked with an agitated phonation. She then said with a raised chin, "you have no power over me. And had I not promised mother on her death bed I wouldn't abandon you to scratch a living off whatever scheme comes into your mind, I would be gone and married with a family that cares about me." Nearly gliding across the floor with graceful walking, she began to walk away. As she did, she took her heal and kicked a clod of dirt into the pit. Her aim was a bit off and it scarcely missed Calmir's head. He could hear and feel is sail directly by his ear.

Calmir called back to her, "Elméra you come back now!" She did not answer, but opened the door that led to the place where the animals and various prisoners were kept and the stair way lead upwards to the outside world of the small mining town.

Calmir looked down at Legolas and the prince thought for a moment he was about to be strangled. Instead he had no time to move as Calmir's fist slammed into his jaw. Anger that had built up inside the human vented out through an extremely painful blow to the Elf prince's face. Legolas did not cry out but pain was evident on his features and a dark bruise was already forming on his right lower jaw. He snarled back, "that was completely uncalled for!"

Calmir smiled insanely, "glad you noticed Elf!"

Elméra walked along the groups of cages, careful not to get too close. She hated this place; she hated the men. As she walked by, Rothinzil slowly raised his head to look at her and she stopped by him. "Did he catch you too?" she asked with narrowed eyes that glowed beneath her thick lashes.

Roth said nothing at first and then said, "do not play with me!" The Elf shifted to try and turn away and there was the clinking of irons as his shackles hit the floor. He felt so miserable and alone. He felt her cold and slender handslide underhis chin gently and she forced him to look into her eyes.

"I would never tease you like a boy poking at a cat. It is unlady like and very immature for anyone. I acquire no gratification from it." She looked into his eyes that stared unwavering y back at hers and said, "you are proud. But tell me, your companion is the blonde one, yes?" She dropped her hand and crouched by him.

Roth nearly jumped at the mention of Legolas but he contained himself and his fear for his companion. What did it matter to her who he was friends with and who he knew? "Perhaps. What if I say yes?"

"Then I shall hold that in high regard. For it is more than clear he is of distinguished lineage." Her voice had the clear and comforting ring of truth in it and Rothinzil felt that she was one whom he could place his trust in.

"And if I say no?"

She smiled grimly, "I would call you a liar." Her voice had a near laugh to it and was still like ice.

But before they could hold further conversation a voice called out, " Elméra!" And she stood up swiftly and her eyes darted over her shoulder.

"If my brother catches me speaking with you, it will go ill for the both of us. " She looked at him and smiled, "may this not be our last farewell." On that occasion, she pulled up the hood of her vermilion shaded mantle and hastened over to where the stair case was. Thereupon, she climbed swiftly and Roth watched as light poured from the door at the top.

Calmir stormed in with his face tinted with what could easily be called an unwholesome shade of rust-colored purple. He saw Rothinzil and he walked slowly over with his hands clenched at his sides. "Elf," he began thickly, "did you see a woman come in here?"

Roth raised on brow and asked, "why would I tell you if I did?" His face showed no fear, though inside he was terrified. But the fact that his man was looking for her in such a fashion did not comfort him and he was sure that if Calmir found her she would be in much more than 'hot water'.

Calmir snarled, "because I will kill the one nearest you. The blonde Elf lives, for now. But he lost in the arena and I am angry enough to slay him. Elf, if you make me anymore angry, I may want to see some more blood spill from his veins." His voice went calm at the end and his whole deportment changed from wrathful to eerily peaceful and sedated.

Rothinzil said, "I would sooner make known to Morgoth in what direction she went than I would you!" Calmir glared and his eyes lit up again as he watched the immortal before him with malevolence that Roth had scarce seen an orc have.

He grabbed Roth's chin and held it tightly, "you will tell me, or else I will kill your friend and I can promise you I will be as slow and cruel about it as I can be. You will hear his dying screams and then, when that is over, you will be washed in what is left of his scarlet blood." The fell and insane glint in the man's eye made Rothinzil feel ill and he felt his breath longing to accelerate beyond its means.

"You wouldn't dare!' breathed Rothinzil with much difficulty. His eyes remained firm and he worked at making them hard.

"Do you really care to find out?" He asked and soon afterward he yelled, "bring in the blonde one!"

Kushor came in, halfway draggling Legolas with him. The prince was stumbling severely and his face was white. Sweat shimmered on his skin and haggard face. But he still looked rather defiant. His hands were behind his back, bound by thick rope and the bruise on his face made Rothinzil wince.

However, when he saw the ripped limb, he wanted to scream in sympathetic agony. It was still bleeding a little and he could tell from the way that Legolas tried to avoid putting pressure on it that it was a torment for him to walk on it. Legolas' long fair hair hung in his face in insipid strands and his eyes were glazed over in pain. Blood sported up and down his side in sunbursts. He also noticed that Legolas was shivering. It was winter after all and even though he was an Elf, being shirtless was not going to make it an easier for him to endure the cold. Mines are hardly ever heated with fires and are cold enough without sunlight.

Roth also noticed that bruises marred his prince's chest and over the lower right there was some swelling, a result of the fractured rib. Legolas' breathing was strong, but unpredictable because of the suffering he felt.

Calmir looked at Rothinzil and then smiled, "ready to tell me?" He got out his knife and fingered it nonchalantly as he eyed Legolas and then changed his gaze to fall upon Rothinzil. Legolas did not know what was going on, but he gave Rothinzil a stare that more than clearly said, 'do not surrender anything to him'.

Roth shivered and turned his head away. Calmir shrugged and went over to Legolas. He placed the cold metal tip of the knife at the top of the captive's sternum and pressed in slightly, intending to cut a crimson line don until he reached the end of the rib cage. Legolas tried to jerk away, but the blade pressed in more until he saw a bit of sanguine blood spring up from beneath it. He struggled further, but Kushor held him tightly against his chest with one hand around the Elf's waist and another ensnared in his limp hair.

Roth was about to give in when he heard a voice at the top of the stairs say, "Calmir you miserable bastard! Let them alone, for pity's sake!" All looked up to witness the young woman standing at the top of the stairs stony faced. Her eyes looked stormy and Calmir smiled and drew the blade down the prince's chest, slicing into the skin. He had created thus far an inch long cut when she shouted, "if you have a score to settle come up here and lets settle it!"

Calmir looked at Kushor and said, "take this Elf to the mines towards the back and put him to work pulling those carts. I want him in harness and pulling by the time I get back there!" Then he turned his gaze back up to Elméra and a dangerous look crossed his face. But he erased it quickly. "Sister, this is a dangerous place. People can get hurt down here. If you go back up those stairs and pretend you were never here, then we shall not mention this again."

She looked at her brother with a bitter look on her face and said, "then so it shall be, but I do not do this because you make me. Oh-no, this is my choice and it would do you no harm to remember that brother dear." She finished the last remark with an underlying sneer and subsequently she turned, disappearing back beyond the door to the world of light. After it was closed everything returned to the eerie glow cast by lanterns upon the walls of dirt and stone. The sound of the door closing echoed and Rothinzil closed his eyes. Legolas looked around briefly before being dragged off towards another door.

He did not struggle. First of all, it was not going to get him anywhere. Secondly, no matter how much he was loath to admit it, he was growing weary. He would fight later, when it really mattered, right now he had to concentrate on staying alive.

His eyes connected with Roth's and he said to his friend quietly so only an Elf's explicit hearing could make out the words, "_Ulma dela Rothinzil. Lye nuquernuva sen!" _

_>>>>>>_

It was getting near dusk when Glorfindel looked up at the sky and its lovely change of colors from a patchy gray, to a red orange tone. The snow reflected it and for a moment everything was serene and it was as though nothing was wrong. Erestor stood beside the Gondolin Elf, his was scowling. "I wonder if the River Anduin will even be crossable," he stated discouragingly as he watched more clouds gathering to the North. "It is likely to be botched up with ice flows!"

Glorfindel sighed and said, "I think you may be right. But we can at least try. I think if we are lucky, we will be able to turn back." His voice sounded quiet and his blue eyes shimmered as he continued to watch the sun sinking. He said at length, "we are nearing the town of Farlost now. I do desperately want to go there and see if Estel is well and if he has Legolas. But perhaps they already made it to Mirkwood and we cannot afford to get held up."

Erestor raised a brow in a fashion that reminded Glorfindel sharply of Elrond. "Are you we going to travel further then? The weather and your foolish snowball have delayed us long enough I think. It is also my opinion that we should compensate for the lost time." He then narrowed his eyes for substantial emphasis and flicked his head to shake dark strands of hair away from his clear face. They slithered down his shoulder and about his pointy ear in one fluid motion.

Glorfindel said with a near shrug, "I do not know. It is my opinion that we should rest and just travel more quickly tomorrow."

Erestor shook his head in objection and said, "no, let us go a little further tonight. Anyway, this open space is not exactly ideal for camping in. There is a hill over there, or my eyes are misinformed. Let go to the other side and stave off the wind with it," he reasoned. "Footsteps traveled today are ones that need not be tread tomorrow."

Glorfindel smiled wryly, "oft that is true on most occasions Lord Erestor. I am ready to rest now, but if you wish to travel about a half mile distant, then let us get started."

It was not longer than about twenty minutes before the pair were at the base of the hill and on the side opposite the wind. Glorfindel was looking around, for there were many large trees. But that was not his concern. He saw foot prints in the snow. And he saw a crimson trail leading down the hill from the top mixed into the snow as though someone had rolled down the hill with an injury. Wrinkling his smooth forehead, creating an unmistakable and disquieted crease between his brows, he looked at Erestor, who was also looking at the strange sight on the ground. Where they were standing seemed to mark the end of the trail. The blood stain looked as though it had had a chance to pool there for sometime.

Erestor asked Glorfindel in a low voice, "do you think...?"

Glorfindel shook his head and answered morosely, "let us hope not. I am not really in the mood for another escapade just yet, being with you is enough." He stared at the blood for a moment longer before saying, "do you suppose we should see if we can find whom it belongs to?"

His dark-haired companion thought for a moment. "Yes, for if it belongs to Prince Legolas or Estel they could be in dire need of aid." _When do they **not** manage to find trouble? _

Glorfindel looked at the counselor and said with a chafed inflection, "yes, that would be the general impression counselor of the obvious!"

Erestor glared at his traveling companion gloomily and said, "must you be so blunt? And anyway, when one travels with a fool, he must remember to always state everything as though the other does not know! That, is the reason why I say what I do."

Glorfindel rolled his eyes, "oh please! You do the same thing at council meetings! I swear by the Valar you act as though we are all ignoramuses and you are the most intelligent being on Middle Earth and the actuality is you are not!"

Erestor tipped his chin up and said, "Lord Glorfindel I most assuredly do not! You exaggerate yet again! But if I am speaking as such a imbecile, why am I the chief counselor and you are not?" he finished with an inquiry that he felt sure would tip the scale in this argument.

The said Lord Glorfindel nearly laughed at the absurdity of the inquisition. "I am a warrior! If I wanted to be a counselor, I would be one!" He had a bit of scorn in his voice and Erestor smiled in a sneer.

"And what makes you so convicted of your answer? Prove it Glorfindel! Oh, that's right...you can't!" he said flowingly as was his nature. His dark eyes had a challenge in them.

Glorfindel felt compelled to answer the challenge and said, "alright! Have it your way! If I am not head counselor (thus replacing you) at some point within the next few months, let us say...seven...I will call you 'master' for a week and serve you your dinner on a silver platter with a bow before leaving!"

"In front of everyone?"

"Of course!"

"Make it two weeks and you will wear something pink of color each day and you have yourself a deal," answered Erestor with a grin shining across his face that Glorfindel longed to wipe off. "I wait in great anticipation of your utter failure!"

"Erestor, you can dream. But If I win, you have to do something for me," said Glorfindel with a sly look in his deep blue eyes. He gave a wry smile that Erestor found to be anything but pleasant.

"Very well...I will shine your swords and replace the string on your bow..." he began.

"No...it has to be more humiliating that that! I am threatened with wearing pink! Though I wouldn't really call it a threat since it is a single chance in one-hundred that it will ever happen," wined Glorfindel.

"Well...how about I serve you your dinner dressed in bright green and call you 'your majesty' every night for three months!" answered Erestor serenely. He had no chances of loosing. Besides, Glorfindel had not put this into writing and anyway, he doubted that Elrond would allow it. The Lord of Rivendell would probably like to protet the reputaion of his refuge.

Glorfindel smiled and said, "I like that idea. But you must really expect to win if you say three months!"

"Glad you caught that, because I most assuredly do!" snorted Erestor with a smirk. He then pulled his hood back up around his face and said, "I can't explain it, but I feel as though we are being watched. You don't suppose the twins followed us, or even Ancu?" he asked with a scowl at the winter sky that was turning from the magnificent sunset, to a bleak night.

Glorfindel just sighed and said, "no; if they had followed us, that wargthat we fell earlier would have been dead much more quickly by one of their arrows a nd not only that, they can't stop themselves from laughing sooner or later. I also find it hard to believe that Ancu would disobey Elrond like that again. I mean, he is on probation after all," reasoned the yellow-haired Elf-lord concisely.

"But do you not feel eyes upon you every time you move?" asked Erestor, pressing the matter. He was really beginning to feel rather uncomfortable and unnerved. He never felt this way unless he and Glorfindel were forced to sit by each other during a council meeting and that was seldom.

Glorfindel shook his head and rich golden hair fell and swished about his shoulders, "it may be the trees." He looked at them as though they were suddenly going to reach out there cracking branches to grab him or with any luck strangle Erestor.

Erestor was not impressed and he said with a roll of his dark eyes, "I am not an Elfling anymore Glorfindel! Trees cannot watch, or stalk me! They do not scheme and they are most certainly not organized!"

The addressed Elf said, "just don't let Prince Legolas hear you say that! He would massacre both of us and not only that, he would do it slowly!" Glorfindel shuddered, imagining the young prince's reaction to the ill advised statement.

Erestor gave him a pitying look and said, "you exaggerate again. I really think that if I were to keep a record of all the times you over state something and got a gold coin for every incident I would be wealthier than the kings of old!"

Glorfindel raised a single brow and tilted his head to the side, looking at Erestor for a moment before saying with a smirk, "now who exaggerates, my friend?"

Erestor was about to make a sharp remark back but instead it looked as though he had ran head on into a brick wall. "What did you call me? Friend, was it?"

"I most certainly did not!" seethed Glorfindel. He could feel himself beginning to blush just a little and pulled his hood closer about his features. Erestor just smirked.

"What ever you say, _friend_." He then began to walk a little further when he saw a figure lying in the snow. He watched it for a moment until he felt Glorfindel's presence behind him. He then turned his head around and asked in a faint whisper, "what or who do you think it is?"

Glorfindel looked intensely with narrowed eyes at the still dark form on the ground and then he whispered in complete horror, "Estel!" Was this how Aragorn's journey had ended? That he never reached the town? Were Legolas and Rothinzil dead? Was everything that they had counted on to be well or mending lost? It was not true! Further more, it was not allowed to happen!

Erestor gulped and said, "I hope not. Elrond would kill us and he was actually the nicer one out of all you 'friends'!" The cou nselor moved as though to take a step forward and then halted and glanced back at Glorfindel asking, "are you going to look at him then?"

Glorfindel hesitated. He had sowed this horrible chance that his lord's foster son would die and now he had to reap the harvest of his actions. But it was such a burden and the said Elf was not sure he really wanted to know if that was in fact Aragorn. It was growing darker and soon they would not have a chance. Stepping lightly out further into the blackness; he strode up and stayed his buoyant steps beside the form.

It was Estel. He was lying face down in the snow, with his cloak half covering his body. The wind whipped the young Dúnadan's dark hair around in a way that resembled a bird's nest. To all appearances, Elrond's foster child seemed to be dead.

Blood was still fresh and shockingly bright red on his shoulder as well as down his arm and spilled onto his side. Glorfindel immediately recognized the signs of an arrow wound. But who would have shot Aragorn? What kind of men were they dealing with: were they even men? Neither of the Elf-lords could be confident and it disquieted them to their core. Erestor wrinkled his forehead and a concerned crinkle came between his dark and elegant brows.

Seeing something of this nature was not even distantly a part of his customary habitual. He felt a shiver going up his spine, starting at the base and making a sinking feeling gather in his stomach that felt as though it was made of ice. Pressing the urge to retch down, the raven-haired counselor asked with a clearing of his throat, "is he...dead...then?" It was so very difficult to get the words out.

Glorfindel shook his head in a shocked manner that stated he was stunned. His wide eyes narrowed as he spoke, "I am not sure." He mentally assessed the situation once more and then he haltingly stooped down and placed a hand on the young man's shoulder.

It trembled much to his dismay. As he felt the shoulder, he realized it was hot, burning hot. Hurriedly, the golden-haired Elf rolled the man onto his back and looked into the pale and yet sweaty face of the ranger that was tipped with a rosy pink on the cheeks and forehead. Aragorn was running a high fever.

Glorfindel jerked his hands away as though the young mortal was painful to the touch, thereupon he called over his shoulder, "Lord Erestor!" But he had no need, Erestor was already there; his now blanched and worried features showing down upon Elrond's third child.

Aragorn looked up deliriously with glazed over gray eyes that were no longer bright but darkened. He moaned and then said, "Legolas? ...Roth?" His head was throbbing and his arm was burning. He felt his throat getting congested and coughed to free the passageway.

Glorfindel shook his head anxiously, letting his dark golden hair slid about his face to bracket it. "No...it is Glorfindel and Erestor. You are safe now. We will take care of you young one," he soothed like a mother, brushing back strands of dark hair from the hot and sticky face.

Aragorn closed his eyes and both of the Elves could hear his chest rattle as he breathed a difficult breath. The world was spinning and night was turning into pitch black. Erestor and Glorfindel's faces were fading and he blinked, trying to hold onto them. But they were going to be lost to the darkness that he felt creeping up on him. As he struggled to hold on he said with much difficulty, "they have them...Legolas...Rothinzil...they have them...they...h-h-have...them..." His voice began to crack and Glorfindel felt his heart beating so fast he feared it would never slow down again.

Aragorn looked at Glorfindel's worried face bending over him and turning an unhealthy pale color. Then he felt suddenly very weak and he blacked out.

Glorfindel watched as the young ranger's glazed silver eyes rolled back into his head and he went completely limp. Thinking the human was dead, he grabbed Aragorn's wrist. Pressing two long fingers against eh large vein that ran the arm's length and counted the pulse,...one...two...three...four...It was erratic and weakening, but so far it was strong enough that he knew the ranger was merely unconscious. However, he did not know how long that would last.

Aragorn's fever flushed features were paling even more and were actually turning a gray that was more than a little disturbing. Glorfindel felt fear for the man's life begin to freeze his heart. If he would have only forbidden Aragorn go after Legolas and Rothinzil the young man might be safe at home...in Rivendell with his brothers. But then again, would that have been the right choice?

Erestor knew what Glorfindel was thinking and he said, "you did no wrong...at least not intentionally. I think you made the wrong choice for the right reason Lord Glorfindel." Erestor then narrowed his eyes so it almost appeared to a random onlooker that they were closed. "I believe the wound is poisoned. If that is the case we have minimal time to bet the antidote and save the prince and Rothinzil."

Glorfindel looked at the laceration with the obvious arrowhead in it and he assessed quickly, "yes, it would appear to be that way. But where would we discover the antidote? If we go into Farlost and they are the people who did this we risk much...too much." He sighed heavily with uncertainty and stated, "we cannot do that..,"

"What other choice do we have Lord Glorfindel?" asked Erestor scrupulously as he stared at the man growing dim before them. "Night is here and we need firelight and warmth to start with. After we warm him we will ponder what we should do next," he took charge unchallenged. Before he began to walk over to a large tree that would shelter them even more from the wind the counselor said, "I think Farlost is out only hope. It is a fools hope, but a hope nonetheless."

Erestor felt a hard lump constituting in his throat and he shoved it hastily down...or at least he tried. But he had never been in this position before and he was frightened. He stood up, the movement causing his hair to slide forward about his face, hiding his slender pointy ears in the transaction along with his now white appearance. As soon as he stood up, however, the wind whipped it behind him and his face looked ghost-like in the dusk. The night was bleaker than they ever could have thought and the raven-haired Elf distinctly recalled no other night that had been more evil in his whole life. His lord's son might die this night.

How could he even try and relate to this? How could he even try and fathom this. Knowledge from all his books and scrolls would never have prepared him for this and he felt so weak and empty.

Erestor watched blankly as Glorfindel gathered Aragorn up in his arms and held him close, wrapping his cloak about the young human, regardless of the blood that rubbed off on his tunic and mantle.

Only moments later, they had a merry fire crackling and popping. However, it did nothing to triumph over their rather depressed and bleak moods, as it shouldn't. Erestor was looking at the flames as though he longed to draw himself into them rather than be where he was unfortunately at. His dark hair bracketed his features contorted by frustration and his eyes were narrowed so near that they appeared to be closed. His head was propped up on his hand and his elbow on one of his knees.

Across the fire from him sat Glorfindel, his face pale as he frantically studied the pale and near lifeless body of his lord's foster son. Aragorn was lying on the snow by the fire (just far enough away he would not catch on fire), wrapped in a blanket and spare cloak. His head was in Glorfindel's lap and it was near white. Glorfindel brushed the dark strands away from the human's sticky face. This was all his fault and there was nothing he could do about it.

He felt so helpless and frightened for the first time in his life, other than once. As he stared at the dying face of young Aragorn, he felt his eyes filming over with hot tears that smarted. However, that was hardly worthy of showing the bitter emotion he felt. There were some things that nothing could express, even tears. The worse part of it was, that now he was unsure of what to do next. If this had happened to Aragorn, what had befallen Legolas? It was most likely the prince was dead and dear gentle Rothinzil with him. H could picture the raven-haired Elf falling at his prince's and dear friend's defense with no regret.

No one deserved a fate like what Aragorn was enduring right now and what was most likely the blonde Elf and Rothinzil had received.

Glorfindel just sat in silence, burning Aragorn's face into his memory. He hoped that the man would return to consciousness, otherwise even if he had the antidote the mortal could not accommodate it into his system. Erestor looked at Glorfindel with a look of intense shock. His face seemed old and yet not so and so full of expression and yet so empty.

Glorfindel and Erestor connected eyes and Glorfindel looked hastily away. "This is all my fault; my shortcoming. I failed my lord and his sons. I failed Prince Legolas if he lives." He wanted to weep, but not before Erestor. He had to save that much of his dignity and honor.

Erestor said around the lump that was still sticking in his throat, "but you may still be able to heal what has happened here. I will aid you Lord Glorfindel." He wrinkled his brow and then pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly. "We just need to travel to Farlost. If they use this venom they surely will know the remedial medicine."

Glorfindel shook his head so that his golden hair flipped about his face and covered it like a curtain and said wearily, "we can try. But why would they tell us? Who is to say that they would not kill us on the spot?" he asked the other dejectedly.

Erestor frowned and answered with a sigh, "I will talk to them. Not that I doubt you Lord Glorfindel," you said eyeing the blonde Elf across the shimmering and dancing flames carefully to see his reaction, "but I do have the better negotiation skills and you are the warrior. I will talk to them and perhaps we can work something out."

Glorfindel looked at Erestor with a scowl, he asked, "so you think everything will turn out for the best?" He had a skeptical laugh in his voice and it was scornfully astringent.

Erestor shook rolled his eyes and said, "I never said that! Actually, I think that it is beneath rock bottom and more than hopeless, but the prospect of a better outcome potentially happening is persisting to make me believe that it is well worth a try."

Glorfindel sighed and said, "I suppose that is a valid assertion to make." Aragorn stirred in his arms and his eyes fluttered painfully open. The bright light of the fire reflected in them and he winced in pain as it penetrated his vision and burned with its brightness. Everything throbbed and he felt that a silent and dark room would hurt.

The man muttered through parched and swollen lips, "L-L-Legolas?" His eyes roved across the horrified face of Glorfindel deliriously. They then closed and the man shifted as he drew in a painful breath. Glorfindel could hear the human's ragged air rattling in his chest as it tried to get through his swollen bronchial tubes.

"No," said Glorfindel in a mere apparition of the strong and reassuring voice he longed to use but could not find nor acquire strength (or confidence) to use. He shivered and his voice quavered slightly, "It is I, Lord Glorfindel. Where is Legolas, young one?"

Aragorn smiled grimly and answered, "G-G-Glorfindel? It is well...then..." he croaked out the last part and Glorfidnel wanted to weep bitter tears. It was not well, this was his fault. It hurt him that he could have prevented the ranger's pain and yet encouraged the man to get involved in the rescue that brought him thus far. He had not tried to stop it, he had enflamed it and aided in it. Now Aragorn was dying.

He whispered so quietly that only Aragorn could hear even if Erestor had wished to hear, "I am so sorry Estel. It was all my fault." He pulled Aragorn close and held him tight as though he feared the ranger would slip away, which he honestly did.

Aragorn sighed and then coughed before saying slowly and with much difficulty and implied pain, "No!...You did no wrong Glorfindel...I did what I had...t-t-to. ...Who w-w-would have gone...if not me?" he asked quietly and Glorfindel's face went blank and his eyes seemed dull in thought and yet emptiness.

He did not know. It was most likely that no one would have.

Glorfindel answered with a deep sigh, "I suppose non one. But we do not know that for certain! You cannot say that this was the way it should have been willed by fate!" he argued, still deeply blaming himself and casting a heavy burden upon his own shoulders that felt to him so incapable.

Aragorn shivered and said in a croak that was nearly inaudible, "then w-w-why did it happen t-t-this w-way?" He could not think of any other answer.

His eyes looked to the deep black-blue sky and the swirling dark clouds that washed over head. It was odd, or so he thought in his inner monologue, that just as his eyes connected with the heavens, the vale of clouds parted to show bright stars and brilliant celestial bodies glowing with such a brightness as he had hardly ever seen before.

He then said, "he is n-n-not well..."

Glorfindel looked into the man's silver eyes with the stars reflecting their light in them. He frowned with apprehension and a crease formed between his fine golden eyebrows as he thought over what the dying human had just mumbled. "Who young one?" he asked quietly as he wrapped the blanket tighter about the man's thin frame that was shaking like a leaf.

Aragorn stammered, "Legolas! You have to save him. They captured him and they wanted both he and Rothinzil alive." He could feel his heart beat picking up as fear for his dearest friends set in and he began to recall all that had happened before he was shot, before he knew he was poisoned, before he began to die.

Erestor had been listening quietly and had thus far not gotten involved in the conversation. He had deliberately tried to avoid it, thinking that he would quite possibly make matters worse and only increase tensions, but now he found Glorfindel oddly speechless and he asked concernedly and with narrowed eyes beneath dark and fine brows, "who has taken him?"

Glorfindel gave Erestor a sharp look, "He is not well enough-"

Aragorn smiled slightly at the Elf-lord's argument that came more from pride than actual need and then frowned thinly, "a man, he was tall and had l-l-light b-b-brown hair. He wants them to fight...I think...Legolas seemed very wary of them."

Erestor frowned and alleged in the midst of a fragment of bitter sarcasm, "that is usually the way that one is towards those that are trying to hurt them asinine human!" The end was said in good humor and meant well. Erestor actually smiled thinly and said, "was Rothinzil with him?"

Aragorn frowned, trying to remember. His head hurt and the sky was spinning and the faces were turning into pale and near lifeless forms as his vision was blurring. It was then he realized it was blurred by tears. He was crying—he was weeping for his lost friend. But Legolas was not lost...not yet. No; if he could hold onto life past this, he would get Legolas back. "Yes..." He answered gradually around the pain both emotional and physical that was burning inside. He knew that Rothinzil would be lucky if he was not dead...he was not a real fighter and Aragorn doubted that anyone could change that.

He watched the flames dancing in the fire and the feral shadows that scampered about near the trees and on his companion's faces. Then everything seemed to fade and he felt very weak.

Glorfindel felt the ranger go limp in his arms and he jolted to reality and then looked at Erestor sadly, "he has lost consciousness. I believe it is the arrow that is in the wound and that if it is removed he may yet live. But I cannot do that here, not with the little amount of supplies that we have."

Erestor looked at Glorfindel and raised one of his brows steadily and then posed the inquiry, "do we make all haste to Farlost then? Surely they did not do this. For he did not say it was the towns people, but something outside. If so, I find it hard to believe anyone would be so heartless as to refuse aid to one who is dying. It is our only chance."

Glorfindel nodded gravely as he pulled Aragorn closer, "it seems we have not other choice. Erestor, you seem so willing to rush head over heels into danger..."

The counselor growled, "what other choice have I? Anyway, I am no coward! One does not have to look for trouble to be brave, though I am not sure that description fits me either," he ended with a sigh. Then he threatened angrily, "if you tell this to anyone. I swear by the Valar and Manwë himself that I will slay you as cruelly as possible and you had better remember that Lord Glorfindel!"

Glorfindel laughed hollowly and answered, "Erestor you aren't as horrible now as you are other times." Then he looked at Aragorn's white face, haggard and bleak. "We must move now then, time is short-lived and a sun will soon rise." He stared at the east, where the sun rose (much to his surprise) and he frowned as he saw the paleness growing on the horizon.

**TBC...Review please? Pretty please? We are going crazy waiting to know what you think! Thanks for all the wonderful reviews so far mellyn-nin (did we get it right this time?) LOL. **

**Well now the bet is on! Actually postponed...kind of difficult if you are battling for your life or the lives of others, huh? Glorfindel in pink or Erestor in green? LOL Neither sound that great! Go ahead, say it! They are insane! **

**Review responses:)**

**Linuvial Greenleaf:** Yes! Go get hurt ranger! Now! -Pokes him with stick- Or you are fired! We have the power to kill you! -ranger shuffles backwards- "but I can't! You haven't healed me yet so I am supposed to be unconscious!" Silly Estel, it will only get worse. Don't you worry about such a trivial little thing such as that. LOL -ranger pouts-...Glad you think the chapter was well written, though it was nothing compared to the things you write. Yeah, fried brains have become sort of an epidimic where we are. We can easily sympathize. It sucks, doesn't it? 200 page books? Three? Ouch1 Yes 'doomed' is not a bad way to phrase your future. Unless you write really fast when pressed. Thanks for the review, but honestly don't get yourself in trouble reviewing our stuff.

**elitenschwein:** Hey! -eyes review- short? What are they like when they are long? lol ...Yes, the silly ranger might need that arm later. But you are right, he was dazed by pain and such so he has an excuse "they made me-" -shove ranger into closet- That's better. ...anyway, you didn't rant! He deserves it. LOL That's cool! A laptop? That's what we need! T5hanks for the nice 'short' review! lol

**Deana:** -snugles up against hurting Elfy- poor thing. He's hurt and...and...hurting! -grabs buckets- Always be prepared for too many tears. Thanks for the review!

**Snow Glory:** Rothinzil, strong? Hehehehehehehehehehehe...-cough- okay, he might, but well, its hard to say. Yes, he is gentle, he is practically a doll baby! LOL No, they don't know he is a prince, yet...sooner of later, he's gotta talk! Aragorn might be slowed down just a wee bit. But it gives the Elves a chance to play with their best friends some more! Thanks for the review!

**Marie Delcore:** Hey mellon nin. Well, just wait. Legolas isn't out of the woods yet...not even close. Yes...Hershy chocolate! Yay! Best comfort food in the world we might add. Don't soften that Elf up too much. LOL Thanks for the review!


	12. Wait For Me, Then Let Me Go

_**The tissue box warning has never been more true...get plenty of boxes and perhaps a bucket to catch tears with. Yeah, a bucket sounds good...Just recall that we did warn you and it just isn't our fault if you went ahead and read it without tissues on hand. LOL**_

**_Enjoy and review please. Can't get enough of those !_**

_**CHAPTER TWELVE**_

_Wait For Me, Then Let Me Go_

Legolas felt all his muscles straining to an unhealthy tightness as he pulled against a harness trying to haul a cart filled with hunks of worthless rock up a steep incline in the dark. The cut that had been inflicted upon his chest was smarting considerably more than it should be as the leather straps of the harness pressed and infuriated the wound to the point of utter agony that was far from incomplete. The edges around the wound were hot as though they had been near a fire and red tinted the flesh about the laceration as well. He felt his whole body throbbing with each heart beat, so that the very blood keeping him alive hurt with a dull ache. His wounded leg was shaking from his effort to keep working and avoid another beating. It was a complete misery to him and hampered every move he made and it was also in critical danger of becoming infected. He was not sure at the moment whether he should be angry, hurt, annoyed or simply give up striving against these ignorant humans who cared nothing for his anguish, in all actuality they enjoyed every minute of it. These humans were insane and he was trapped with them, there was no way out.

Legolas felt so tired. He had been working back in the mine since before the sun rose, now it was near evening, and his joints ached. He was an Elf, so he did have more endurance than men. But he was no pack animal and even Elves tired of pulling cart upon cart of heavy stone. It also dampened his spirits to acknowledge the fact that there was not a bit of greenery in this place. It was all dark, dank, and cold. He already felt very old, like he had never felt and for an Elf he was considerably young yet.

Legolas watched as the men watched him. Every move he made was met with scorn and hate. His eyes though enervated, blazed with molten fire when he heard them commenting about how worthless Elves are if they could not throttle a simple warg. He could feel his hands balling into tight fists behind his back where they had been cruelly and unnecessarily tired with biting cords.

Calmir watched him and said, "Elf, is that as fast as you can go?" He glared and Legolas saw anger rising in the utterly insane mortal's eyes.

"I could go faster were I not treated like a dog, beaten like a mule and scorned like the dirt with my hands unreasonably bound with cords that are painfully tight and expected to work with a ripped leg!" he seethed, no longer caring what they did to him now. Whatever they were going to do, he would have to take. Legolas glare intensified in darkness so much, that if he had been the only supply of literal light to the room, it would have been pitch black. Calmir could see the furious eyes of dark blue burning from behind strands of sweaty and dirtied blonde hair.

Calmir just smiled slowly, as though he was thinking of a perfectly wicked thing to do to the cheeky Elf. Legolas had no time to try and figure out what in the world this mad being was planning next before he found himself flat upon his back staring into the dark nothingness above. His hands and arms screamed and he moaned quietly. He hated himself at that moment for that. He had not meant to but it had happened nonetheless and he was certain Calmir had heard it moreover.

Legolas tried to rise and was struck down again. His leg wavered and then gave out and he felt fear pulse through his system in such a fashion he feared for his heart. It felt like it was ready to leap from its cavity in his aching chest.

Legolas fought inwardly for what had to be only fifty seconds though it seemed like years for his composure. He mentally slowed his heart beat down and bit so hard down on his lower lip to hide the pained look longing to slide across his face that he feared it would bleed. He felt Calmir's fingers on his chest wound and forbore the beckoning urge to wince in agony.

The man smiled grimly and shifted the straps of harness away with flicks of his hand to reveal the wound's true predicament. It was fast becoming infected and dirt caked the dry blood that was dark as any violet color. Any deliberate pressure on it and Legolas felt that he was going to scream, but he held his composure relatively well-considering the circumstances.

Calmir pressed it hard and Legolas felt a dull and merciless throbbing come from the wound and he could feel sweat beginning to form on his brow that had gone cold. Elves could not get sick, but wounds could kill them and still give them a fever, but technically, it was the wound, not an illness. He felt the rough fingers applying more and more pressure and he felt hot blood run anew from it and he knew that if he saw no bruise there tomorrow that he would have to be blind. He would not be surprised if it already was turning black and blue now from all the pressing and pinching around it.

Calmir watched Legolas' blood flow over his fingers in a dark colored river; actually a series of rivers. The Elf was doing a good job with resisting the urge to even hiss in pain. He put his ear near the passive blonde being's own pointed one, resting his chin on the captive Elf's shoulder and said, "so Elf, what were you saying?"

Legolas turned his head away and contemplated whether or not answering the question would be better than his silence. His intention was not to take the easy way around, it was to stay alive. He thought though, with his pride getting the better of him, that if he remained silent it would be a sign of intimidation, which certainly was not even present in his mind-yet. "I was simply stating that I can't work under these conditions and if you want the loads to go faster, make them lighter. But why should I work for you anyway master human? What have you done to earn my respect and servitude?"

Legolas arched one of his bloodied brows as he waited for an answer. Calmir sneered and said, "If you really want to know why you shoulder work for me I can tell you." He dug his fingers deeper into the wound and Legolas used more of his will than he had expected to bite back a cry. "Because we can kill you, we can hurt you severely Elf. You are at our mercy, and luckily for you, we can be very merciful. For instance you are indebted to me for not giving you the beating you just asked for with open arms!" He laughed scornfully and Legolas' face turned into another dark scowl, like a storm about to break.

It should have been a warning to this man and all concerned, but the human was too ignorant to take it into consideration. Legolas spat, "I am at no ones mercy. For your knowledge, my spirit can leave when it wishes and I can go to my final place of resting at a mere whim." He smiled coldly, "I can be at peace with or without your consent." He knew that this would irk the insane and completely illogical human that was holding him captive.

Calmir did not get angry as Legolas had more than expected, and in fact had counted on, instead, the man smiled back and looking into his face was like looking into a frozen river. Legolas shivered and Calmir hissed, "you exaggerate my dear Elf. You exaggerate greatly."

So perhaps Legolas had exaggerated a wee bit, but he certainly had not expected this man to know that. This was shocking. However, if he let Calmir so much as see a splinter of his shock then he would lose this battle of wills and that he would not do or by the Valar he would go to the West. That was a promise. Narrowing his blue-silver eyes, the Elf-prince stared had at the man smirking above him and said slowly and through grit teeth of frustration, "you wish I was. And what do you know of Elves, Master Human?" he asked with a sneer that was all too false and obviously so.

Calmir laughed a cold and yet frighteningly honest laugh that nearly made Legolas lose his composure and shrink away, nearly. "Elf, I know much. I suppose next you would ask how? I have dealt with your kind before, though tragically they had to die." He stood up and glared down at the blue-eyed Elf lying on the cold stone with eyes that were narrowed, yet he could tell that they were fighting to stay in that form. "There are other Elves around, and here they now dwell. They never see the sunlight anymore. They were smart; they did not force us to kill them. I hope you will be that sensible Master Elf?" he turned his eyes away and looked behind him as there was the sound of metal on stone and then the eerie sound of metal on metal that bounced off the walls with bizarre and slightly disturbing echoes.

The men had struck iron and would need help to haul it out and haul the hewn rocks from the metal that was the prize. This was the realization that Legolas came to with a mental grown of weariness and irritation. The man's eyes shifted and he looked at Legolas and the fair-haired prince took this dangerous opportunity to ask gruffly concerning the supposedly other Elves that dwelled in this terrible place, "where are they then?"

Calmir did not respond at first, calculating whether this Elf had the strength to pull anymore stone. The cruel part of his mind said yes, and that option sounded a whole lot more appealing. Turning on Legolas he then answered with a question of his own as though he had not heard all that the blonde being had said, "the other Elves? They are where your friend will be after I am finished here. They are fighting for their lives and perhaps, when they become worthless, they will be freed someday." Here he tapped the sword like dagger he carried at his left side and then he put a finger on Legolas' heart, right on top of where the deep and bleeding laceration marred the pale skin.

Legolas looked at this man and he wanted to say something, anything. But he could not. He first of all, did not have the strength to continue this fighting and secondly, it most likely would result in further injury that would only serve to further pain him and lower his chances of escape. He turned his eyes away from where they had been locked on Calmir's and then he glared daggers into the darkness, as though everything was its fault and glaring would actually do something about it.

Legolas suddenly cried out swiftly as he felt a shocking blow to his already battered ribs send his whole chest and side into a throbbing fest. He had not expected that deliberate blow to his aching body and being caught off guard, he could not help but cry out in bitter pain. He bit his lower lip once again to keep this ridiculous cry he had given from turning into a full-fledged scream of agony as pain coursed his side and he threatened to black out. He moaned inwardly as he realized that Calmir had found his broken ribs. However, with the deep black and blue bruises on his side and the swelling that was taking place, who could miss? His closed his eyes for only a moment and then he heard Calmir say thickly as though Legolas was stupid, "Elf, get up now!"

The man all but spelled it out and Legolas' eyes snapped open with a blue fire blazing in them rimmed by pain. It made quite an impression and Legolas looked like an Elf-lord of old. He strongly resembled his father.

He did not appreciate being addressed thus and he was not about to let this human, who was far younger than him get away with it. Even though that little voice inside was telling him to shut up while he was ahead, he had never listened to it, so why should he start now? _Perhaps to come out alive? _He thought glumly to himself. But he pressed that thought back and snapped sharply back as he struggled to rise form his painful position on the stone floor, "Human, I am not stupid, contrary to what seems to be the popular belief around here!" he glared around him at the many men who mined and had beaten him, cursed him and acted like he was an animal.

Calmir gave him an intense glare and reaching down, he gripped the Elf by his shoulders and pulled him up so his sweaty and pale cheek was against Calmir's own, then the man growled, "Elf, I know well how intelligent you are. I know well your capabilities. Do you not realize that it is only I that stand between you and your certain death here?"

Legolas growled back in a low and lethal voice of his own, "the thought had not even so much as crossed my mind for a brief moment." Why should it have? He resisted the urge to shiver as he felt the man's hot breath on the back of his neck, causing his hair on his neck to rise from the strange chill he felt. But he was more rankled and anxious than he was truly fearful. He had had the privilege of meeting far more dangerous and frightening beings than the likes of this man, so he saw no need for Calmir to flatter himself.

Calmir had expected that very sort of answer from the Elf and so he shrugged it off. This miserable Elfling would find out later. He would beg for his life and Calmir would love every minute of it with an intense passion.

Legolas did not like being this close to the vile human who insisted on making him feel utterly miserable. So one could say that he was _not_ overly unhappy when he was cast off from where the man had grasped his shoulders; Legolas very gladly staggered forward. He would rather break his back transporting stone than be so close to this cruel mortal.

Calmir laughed quietly to himself as he watched the Elf struggle into a limping walk towards the place where the iron had been found. But then Legolas suddenly stopped.

His whole body trembled and then his leg crumpled beneath him and he gave a shortened cry before falling to the ground, landing harshly on his knees. His head hung and his pale golden hair, now dirtied nearly beyond recognition, fell as a curtain to hide his bruised and thinning features.

He could not take much more of this, he simply could not. It was not his spirit, but his body that was failing him. His spirit was strong and it could quite probably take much more, but his body was going to wither. He shivered and felt Calmir's hand on his shoulder, pressing in as a silent warning to get up or face more brutal abuse from whips and kicks.

But he could not rise; his leg was more or less dead. The warg's claws had caused far too much damage and it was most likely that he would not be able to walk for a few days or so, all things considered.

The prince flicked his disheveled hair back with a snap of his head and met the man's gaze head on and with battle in his eyes. Calmir was hardly amused as Legolas jerked his shoulder out from beneath this menace of a mortal's cold and harsh hand as though it was too hot for him to bear the touch of it.

Calmir knew that the Elf was unafraid and defiantly showing it without second consideration. This irked the man even more and as he gazed into the strong azure eyes of the undaunted immortal prince, he could not stand it any longer and the back of his hand came hard across Legolas' pale cheek. This sent the prince to the right and he slammed against the ground and felt the stones of the tunnel floor bite his side and pinch through his leggings.

"You, Elf, have defied me for the last time. With that injury, you are worthless, or at least to me. I have not the time and money to heal you. And my dear sister says you are a brave Elf of great nobility!" he scoffed at the prince who lay on the ground with his eyes closed trying not to open them again for fear if he saw Calmir's perfectly obnoxious face again he would be forced to attempt its destruction thereby causing more harm to himself than was needed under the given circumstances. "I am going to sell you to some one that I know will break you and make you Elf." He smiled, "to kill you would profit me not at all, so why would I be that merciful?"

Legolas held back a moan. But then sounds began to fade and he felt strangely like he was going numb. Perhaps he was dying; perhaps he was finally going to be at peace? But no, he knew that wasn't the case. Regrettably, he knew it was only consciousness leaving him and not his spirit leaving his body.

Before everything completely faded and he was oblivious to everything about his being, the prince felt hands grabbing him, lifting him and his head was reeling as he was slung over someone's shoulder and the collar that had been around his neck press against his throat enough to feel like he was being strangled.

Rothinzil sat as best as he could with the horrible collar and shackles. He was cold, miserable and lonely. His hazel eyes were closed, but it was dark, so why would that make a difference? "Exactly!" he said softly out loud before he could stop himself, "I am still alone."

Then he heard footsteps and a hiss as a torch came to life, bringing an eerie red glow to the room. He heard voices and one was certainly Calmir's gruff and yet smooth speech that made him so sinister, Rothinzil decided darkly, not shifting his chin from its comfortable (given the circumstances) position on his knees. Legolas was gone, he knew that and he did not care what they did to him now. His only reason for staying alive had been for keeping his prince alive and now what hope was there in that?

He heard the footsteps of the heavy booted feet stay beside him and he did not open a single eye, at least, not until he heard the voice of the women he had met earlier, Elméra. Her voice drifted like silver, for it was heavy and yet beautiful. "Brother, why can't you just let him go? What has he done to garner such treatment?" she inquired briskly as she assessed the situation herself in a brief glance that told her all she wanted to know.

Calmir growled, "you came to live with me. You found out the truth!" Then his eyes blazed with a dangerous fire that she felt could not be extinguished, "now you cannot leave, unless you prefer to die."

She stared at him only for a moment and then said, "perhaps I would, but that did nothing to answer my question." She saw Calmir draw his boot back and then she knew that he was about to savagely kick this dark-haired Elf for no reason other than the fact that he was angry with her. She screamed, "No!" Her voice echoed off the walls and Roth had already guessed the events taking place.

However, his judgment was more off than he could have hoped and his shoulder was grazed to leave a welt like bruise. Inwardly cursing his ill luck, the Elf opened up his eyes and swirled them upward to see Calmir bending over him with an angry gaze bereft of mercy. "I hope you are smarter than your friend," snapped Calmir as he grabbed the chain leash that he had chosen as his instrument of emotional torment and control of the stated Elf.

Rothinzil asked in a hard voice, "what did you do to him? Where is he?" He was rewarded with a slap across his face; flushing a red color to his pale facade and leaving a vague and nearly indiscernible hand print to decorate his features.

"I ask the questions! You remain silent unless I command you to speak!" commanded Calmir in a malicious growl that stated more plainly than anything else that he was in no mood to be messed with.

Rothinzil was many things, but he was not stupid. Mad would be a fitting word at times or even completely insane, but never stupid. He knew when defying his captor would bring upon far more injury than was necessary. This much he had learned from personal experience and had long had it in memory. However, he did not often decide to follow it and as a matter of fact, had to trail in his prince's footsteps and antagonize his subjugator further. This was definitely one of those times when the word 'insane' was a perfectly reasonable and accurate description. Before he could check himself, the raven-haired being snapped, "You may ask the questions, but I give the answers my way in my time, or you will know nothing."

He had glint in his narrowed hazel eyes that made them glow a dangerous green in the dim light. Calmir snorted, "you Elves just don't know when to shut up do you?" he asked scornfully. "Well, that's alright... for now...you are going to make me some money now, all right Elf? If you make me profit from your existence, then it will be easier for you here, but if you lose and fail me, then you fail yourself and I have the privilege of making your life a living Hell. Am I understood?"

Elméra looked at Rothinzil with unlinking eyes of a deep blue and her auburn hair hung about her face, bracketing it and making it glow. 'Elf, defy him! Defy him!' was the clear message Rothinzil read in the azure depths of her eyes and he was more than willing to comply. Other than the reason of safety, why would he not pass up the chance to make his captor seethe? For all he cared, this man could be seeing red.

Rothinzil glared and said bitterly, "men, always so sure." He more or less spat the slur and his eyes connected with a Calmir's dark ones that looked evil in the light. Rothinzil was sure that the man was related to an orc somewhere in his family tree.

Calmir gave a forbidding laugh and snorted sniffed arrogantly, "we shall see Elf, we shall see." Then he turned to Elméra and asked, "have you ever seen a fight, my dear sister?"

She blinked and then said in a growl, "I would never dream of watching such things. I see no benefit from participating in such vile activities." Her eyes fell on Rothinzil and she felt his pain radiating from him. She then raised a brow skeptically and ignored her brother's annoyed look and questioned gloomily, "are you about to introduce me to the like then, my brother?"

Calmir answered with a sneer that sounded fair all the same, "don't be so gloomy Elméra, it does no favors for our luck and it makes things so dull."

Elméra 's jaw tightened and she ground her teeth until she decided darkly that it was unfit for a lady to be conducting herself thus and that it might not be exactly beneficial for her complexion. She forced herself to relax and appear to be at ease. At an early age she had found quite a comfort in lying. It had been necessary for survival and now she was forced to use this horrible tactic once more. She smiled thinly and said around her anger, "if you say so."

This had destroyed her life utterly and she was finding it unbearable that she should linger and watch with false innocence while it continued. She was tired of hiding, tired of being alone. She was tired of running from her troubles and tired of keeping secrets. She wanted to be free. But she could not, not yet. She was tired of being suppressed by fears grown into great barriers in her life. Her confidence had been placed in so many failing things that she did not know what to believe in any more and the world seemed to be passing her by.

Rothinzil looked at her once more before being forced into the room he had seen Legolas go into and come out ripped apart. And then he saw the people and he held his breath. It was hard to breathe and he could only imagine what had been going through Legolas' mind. When he finally did dare to inhale, the air had a sickly-sweet sour taste to it that made his stomach churn and feel like worms were crawling around in the interior.

It was not long before he found himself in the same place as Legolas and most likely to suffer the same fate. He was not going to fight for sport. He would much rather die first, though he wished to see his home once more.

Being pitted against a warg would not be all that bad, though bad enough, but when he set his hazel eyes upon the creature across the pit from him he coughed in surprise. It had the honor of being one of the last creatures in Middle-Earth that he would want to 'lock horns' with.

The beast he was staring at with wide eyes was a full-grown wild boar. Its razor tusks were more than capable of ending his life painfully and ripping his body into complete shreds. His breathing accelerated to a dangerous rate and he felt his hands developing a coldness and shaking sensation. His palms were slick with sweat.

His eyes searched the crowd in one quick sweep as he scrutinized the entire situation, but quickly stopped because the more he found out about it, the more he despised it. He could see many men all looking down at he and the menacing creature that he was wrongfully pitted against. Rothinzil shook his head mentally and tried to shake off the uneasy feeling he had from all those eyes watching him.

They made him feel ill to his stomach and shake more than the prospect of being ripped into slivers by a crazed boar that probably hadn't eaten in quite a few days. Although, he had to admit, that thought jarred his stomach as well and caused a lump to well up in his throat so that he thought it was quite probable he would vomit.

Then he groaned inside as the realization that he was weaponless sank slowly into his already over worked senses. He could never hope to remotely win, he would be cruelly torn and played with until his body was no more than a memory. And if he actually, through some bizarre fate, survived even though he had lost the engagement, he might as well have died because Calmir would skin him alive and that was most likely not a caricature of the truth either, he thought glumly.

He took a defensive stance and eyed the large tusker before him that was about to be released and he set all his train of thought to getting out of dodge as quickly as possible. But he still could not conceive even a wild idea of how he was supposed to win without a weapon! He was not an animal and most certainly would not use his teeth and what good would that do anyway?

But of course, he knew that was what men thought of him and had illegitimately made the assertion that Elves fought like animals' even thought Rothinzil knew that the men had to know differently. Shoving that thought out of his mind, the raven-haired Elf braced himself as he saw the boar released.

The cheer that went up from the men surrounding was utterly indescribable and it made a thrill race through him, but he was not going to fight. Not only would fighting be foolhardy, but it also would be perverted and yet in the eyes of the men who had captured him and tortured his prince it would be gratifying.

He was not going to give them that satisfaction.

As the animal came at him, the Elf leaped lightly onto the creature's bristly back and sprang lightly over it, landing on the ground at the creature's backside. He spun around as he landed, so that his front was facing the animal and then he backed off considerably and watched the bristly beast with wide eyes as it slowly spun around to face him.

It had taken the beastly thing a moment of two to realize its supposed victim was no where in front but behind and therefore it must turn around to spare with this new swift being, the likes of which he had never faced before. In his small mind, that made this extremely dangerous and this agile, scrawny creature it was pitted against must be ruthlessly killed.

Rothinzil saw the fire in the animal's little beady sable eyes that looked just as frightened as he was, but angry as well. The boar gave a snarl and lunged, Rothinzil was barely quick and lissome enough to slide out of the way and twist around the creature, avoiding the long and potentially dead white teeth that curved upward from its evil lips that were curled back in a fierce gnarl.

The men's cheers became louder and Rothinzil did his best to block them out and concentrate on survival. However, they were so loud and unconditionally obnoxious that he found that near impossible. One voice screamed above them all, "attack him Elf! Win you damn scion of a warg and a spider's nightmare!" Calmir was all but begging him to win and Rothinzil looked up to see the voice and saw that it did indeed belong to Calmir and standing beside Calmir were too other beings. Elméra stood on one side, while Kushor flanked the other.

But Elméra was as quiet as Kushor and Calmir were boisterous.

Her face looked graven of stone and her lips were in a thin line. She had the tragic look of a caged bird that thought mournfully of the sunlight and all things good, but did not know how to reach them. Her eyes looked slightly puffy and she seemed entranced by all that she saw.

Rothinzil watched her in sudden wonder and his concentration was thus broken.

He saw her eyes grow wide and he heard Calmir screaming for him to turn around-but it was too late and the Elf felt his side scream in agony as a horrid tusk grazed his abdomen and red blood crept across his tunic in a fanned out crimson stain.

Rothinzil crumpled to the ground and clutched at his side. He did not know what to do as he felt the animal's long teeth rip free of his flesh and the blood flow freely over him like river. The boar's face came away form him red with his silvery tinted blood.

Rothinzil gaped and he glared at the creature and waited for it to rip his throat out. His heart seemed to go calm and everything seemed to go still. A silence hung the air though he could see mouths moving in silent screams that he thought were mostly likely loud but he was not tuned into them.

But fate was with him for the moment and the boar's attention was abruptly diverted to across the pit when in the crowd's shoving and screaming along with other crazed behavior, a poor man fell in and Rothinzil watched as the wild hog turned its fierce and unforgiving gaze upon the unfortunate being and he cringed. Rothinzil had no desire to see the inevitable gruesome and horrible fate of this man.

The crowd went wild and Rothinzil leaned back against the sod wall of the pit he had been placed in and sighed, praying that the Valar would spare him the horrible pain and call him home then. His side was smarting sharply and it was bleeding freely.

Elméra looked at the down Elf and her face was drawn with emotional angst. Calmir was standing by her, his hands clenched into fists at his side and his face was an unhealthy shade of red. Rothinzil looked into the man's eyes and he saw his death, painful and unavoidable as though Calmir had screamed that fact out for the entire world to hear.

But he did not shut his eyes and he did not turn away. He faced Calmir steadily, even as he felt himself fading and growing increasingly weak. He could feel his head beginning to droop to rest his chin upon his chest and his eyes continued to flutter as he tried to hold his gaze.

Elméra watched with much uncertainty. Her eyes darted to the Elf and to the hog that was being secured by many men. She looked at Calmir and said tersely, "he is dying!" Her voice was dripping with anxiety that she could not suppress. She did not know what it was, but she could not bring herself to just let him die. At least, she could not let him die alone and she could feel herself trembling as she saw a cloudy glaze of gray begin to pull over his hazel eyes that could quite presumably close forever.

He was so strong in her eyes, what had he done to deserve this? She had never cared much for the Elves and had thought of them as mystical beings of evil intent or of trouble causing catalysts that left soon after the flame was war was glowing and growing.

Now she knew better, but was it too late.

Rothinzil struggled to rise, pressing against the wall, but his muscles could not be willed and his pain was great. Her heart went out to him and yet all she could find the strength to do in her shock was watch as Calmir and Kushor hopped down into the pit after the hog was secured and pulled out with ropes.

They walked up to Rothinzil and the Elf looked defiantly up at them with his glazing eyes. The fact that he was still returning their gaze head on made Calmir's ire all the more great and he whipped out his dagger. "Elf," he said in a hoarse whisper choked by anger unconceivable by those who were not experiencing it and having it flow through their veins like a fell fire. "Elf," he repeated slowly, "I suppose you had a death wish or were otherwise trying to supplant me and fail me?"

Rothinzil gathered his breath around his rattling chest and he growled back, "the second assertion would be the most factual, murderer," he seethed bitterly as he felt certain death coming on him. He was going to die anyway, so what did he have to lose? He watched as Calmir's figure trembled with wrath and Kushor smiled evilly. Their looks were all too displeasing for Rothinzil's comfort, but he was not frightened. Agitated and a little curious as to what was about to happen after he died would be a far more precise description.

Elméra looked on, hand tightly clasped over her scarlet lips to withhold screams. Tears formed in her eyes and she closed them, afraid that the salty drops might escape. How she wanted to leave! But she could not, it was though her legs had grown roots and she was forever mounted to that spot with her eyes fixed on an irreversible horror.

How now she hated her brother. She hated him for how he had deserted her and her mother, she hated him for his cruelty and she more than suspected that he was behind her father's disappearance.

Kushor snarled his fingers in Rothinzil's clumped and rather unkept long dark hair, twisting it cruelly and dragging the bleeding immortal to his feet. He pulled Rothinzil against his chest and whispered, "this wound may or may not be fatal, but the one Calmir is about to give you is."

Calmir watched as Roth was held securely to his companion's chest and then the man ripped what was left of the tunic away from the abdomen to reveal the bloody and convulsing wound. He then placed his knife on the end of the deep tusk afflicted laceration closest to Roth's middle and began to drag it, lengthening the cut and causing Roth to jerk slightly against the blade and a slight whimper escaped the Mirkwood archer's paled lips as agony shot through his awareness.

The wound was enlarged until it went all the way across Rothinzil's middle and then Calmir looked into the pain filled eyes of the Elf and gave the blade a wicked twist before yanking it forcefully free. Rothinzil went limp against Kushor and the human let go, allowing the Elf to slide down him and land on the ground.

"You lost Elf, and now you can die and die knowing your friend is gone and you are alone and a failure," growled Calmir sinisterly as he wiped his blade nonchalantly on the straw before returning it to it's sheath at his left side.

He then looked at Kushor and said, "well, let us leave him to his blissful thoughts."

Rothinzil did not even hear them leave and he shivered as he felt his body growing cold. He was dying!

Elméra watched her brother leave and stared down at the form struggling for life in the straw. She eyed distance from the top of the pit, to the base where the dying Elf lay with a nervous but calculating glance that could also be described as languishing. She had never felt so helpless and frightened before in her life and as she looked at the writhing Elf that was curling into himself in horrible anguish, she felt desperate sorrow.

Closing her eyes, she jumped down into the pit where much blood had been spilled in years past and landed lightly on the straw strewn floor before turning herself in the archer's direction and then she trotted quickly to his side.

Rothinzil heard the footsteps and looked up at her with a trembling face as he tried to raise his head that felt as heavy as his guilt that he had not been able to spare Legolas. Her face was so drawn it looked ghost like in the dim room and he whispered, "my Lady?"

She dropped quickly down to her knees by his side and her gaze swept over the wound that was bleeding freely. He followed her gaze and then looked into her darkened eyes. She gently brushed the dark locks of hair that had fallen into Rothinzil's face and stuck to the perspiration that damped his façade and as she did she smiled warmly but Rothinzil noticed it quivered with nervousness. "I am going to save you," she whispered in a trembling voice. "But only if you want me to."

Rothinzil tried to smile back and answered quietly, "what have I left to live for?" He did not know. Then he asked before she could even contemplate an answer for the first question, "does my friend live?"

She began to unclasp the brooch of her cloak and answered hurriedly, "yes, he lives. But he is wounded as well my Lord."

She did not know how else to address this fair being that was beautiful and stronger than any she had ever had the honor of meeting and seemingly as calm and gentle as a cat or aged stag that eats the young green leaves.

Rothinzil relieved her of her uncertainty, "do not address me thus if it pleases you. I am a warrior, not a lord as well." He paused to catch his quickly departing breath before finishing, "my name is Rothinzil." Then he closed his eyes as pain washed over him in a wave of agony indescribable. A frail cough escaped his throat and he opened his eyes slowly again and blinked as he felt her hands, cold and trembling peeling back the cloth of his tunic from around the wound so she could pass a better judgement upon it's conjuncture.

She would have to stop the bleeding and later it would require stitches. But she knew not what or where she could take this Elf. If they were caught, they would both be slain out of hand. Her brother was absolutely incapable of a small cruelty and would reap great joy from slaying them both. The only thing that kept him from slaying her was that it did not yet suit his dark purposes.

She was trapped here, but not totally helpless. If this Elf was healed and the other rescued, they may break free.

Taking her vermilion cloak that was the most beautiful thing she possessed, she draped it over him carefully and with the respect she felt he was due and then she whispered, "I can't carry you and you mustn't walk. I am going to try and find one of the various mules that are kept around here for the purpose of helping in the mines. Wait for me. Promise me you will hold on until I get back."

Her face looked so pleading and so troubled that had it been anybody else, with the possible exception of Legolas, he would have said it was better to die. But not this time, he would wait for her. He gave a smile that was vague and did not last more than a couple of seconds. "I promise my Lady. I shall await your return."

She smiled back and it was hollow. "You can call me Elméra, if it pleases you Rothinzil. I hold no position of power, yet I would have my brother not squandered the farm after my mother's death and my father abandoned us." She finished the sentence bitterly and Rothinzil frowned. "But never mind that, it is mere prattle to you I would imagine." She then lifted her crimson mantle that she had placed over Rothinzil moment's ago and looked once more than the baleful wound that was turning more threatening each minute.

This bleeding had to stop or Rothinzil would be drained white before she even left. She looked at her dress, which consisted of many layers as it was winter. Her hands trembled as she began to tear the cloth into strips and balled them into wads.

Rothinzil began to hiss softly as the supple wads of cloth were pressed into the gapping incision that had been cruelly made. Elméra did it as tenderly as she might, but it was not enough and he whimpered slightly in intense pain and her quintessence felt as though it was about to shatter in sheer sympathy. But against her emotional pain, she continued to gingerly press the cloth into the wound, smothering most of the bleeding.

Then she gently folded the cloak over the Elf that was now shaking as though with bitter cold and she whispered, "you are strong, I think, for many others would have died. But you wait for someone other than me. You wait for your friend, the blonde one." She smiled and added with a grin, "well he is far stronger than many here think possible and he will last for a time yet."

Rothinzil's shivering did not subside despite the cloak and he glanced at her with a grin that he felt was misplaced, "Legolas is strong Elméra, but he can't stand through this alone and neither can I. We Elves hate the dark and pain or loneliness makes it all the more unbearable."

Elméra looked at Rothinzil and said, "I will do what I may, but if Calmir finds out that I have spoken with Legolas, as you call him, it will go ill for him and all of us." She tucked the vermilion cloak tighter about Roth's form and said, "wait for me."

He shivered and closed his eyes more pain shot through his consciousness and he wished to that Valar that eh might pass out and what would come would come. He felt his blood still draining and he was so weak. He wished he could tell her that though she might take him away from here, he would eventually die and very soon. He was in so much agony.

She went to the edge of the pit and grasping a rope that dangled over the rim, she used it to help pull herself out. But as she looked back down in at the Elf that was lying motionless on the floor as though he was already death inbound, she could not help but ask herself, how was the mule going to get down there and back out?

This very question was now crossing Rothinzil's mind, but he was too weak to state in and in too much pain to care. If someone had told him that the world was about to end, he would have cared very little at this point so low was his spirit. He whispered, "I am sorry. I cannot hold on any longer." And then his hazel eyes rolled back into his head and his body went limp. Red lined his mouth ominously and his glow seemed to fade into nothingness.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Glorfindel held Aragorn close to himself with his cloak wrapped about the man to trap what warmth Aragorn had left. The ranger had begun to form a cold sweat and his breathing was turning perilously shallow and his face was ominously white. A few times he had cried out for his brothers, or for Legolas and Glorfindel found it terribly sad that they could not answer him because they were not there and they could not hear him.

Erestor walked quietly in the back, his calm demeanor changed to one of uncertainty and wariness. His sharp dark eyes watched ahead for any enemies and in his mind he tried to recall all the powers of healing that he had read up on. But his mind was at a complete loss and he felt so useless. He knew he should be able to help but he was finding out knowledge was useless if you could not put it into action.

Glorfindel had all his will concentrated on keeping the human alive until they found aid and Erestor could tell from Glorfindel's unnaturally troubled facade that he was ready to fail.

The sun had come up warm and bright, but it did nothing to melt the deep snow that but for being Elves, they would have been engulfed in it. Its bright rays made the snow shine and reflect back to make their eyes blink and smart from the painful illumination.

It was not windy and so the air temperature did not seem so chill. This was just as well, for Aragorn's condition could worsen incomparably if the wind picked up and its bite reached beyond the mantle he had been wrapped in as he was being carried towards Farlost.

As Erestor glanced his jaded eyes upward and blinked out the sun's rays, he saw two figures floundering in the deep snow. They were horses or his eyes were gypped by the brightness of the day and the darkness of his heart.

They were running towards them it seemed and he could hear them snorting out air in puffs of white steam. The snow danced up behind their hooves in billowing powered clouds. "Glorfindel," he said to get the Gondolin Elf's attention and when the golden-haired Elf looked at him, he glanced his eyes up in a gesture to the horses. "The town cannot be too far away."

Glorfindel just watched the horses and nodded his head. "They seem to be approaching this way, so let us wait for them. Perhaps the manner of their approach will tell us more of what we seek."

Erestor frowned darkly, "are you sure it would not be best to met them halfway?" His brows were knitted and a delicate crease formed between them that stated his obvious doubt and displeasure, not to mention his irritable frame of mind.

Glorfindel did not respond. He was too concentrated on the horses. One certainly looked like Prince Legolas' gray horse, the other looked like good old Naneth, Rothinzil's noble mare. Re-balancing the weight of the ranger that he bore, the Elf surveyed the scene before him with his keen blue eyes.

The horses were feet away now and it was terribly evident that they were riderless. Glorfindel narrowed his eyes into dark azure slits that showed his great anxiety and emotional unrest under a set of crinkled golden brows. Erestor looked at his companion darkly and then rotated his curious glance back at the horses that were fast approaching. Drawing a deep breath, he snorted it out in a quick spurt anxiousness.

The horses galloped up and were trembling with seemingly fear, but the Elves, in tune with all good creatures, knew otherwise.

Sweat slicked the horses' powerful bodies and they snorted into the air as they captured their breath once more. Glorfindel placed a hand on gentle Naneth's forelock and sighed, "she yearns for her master. Poor Rothinzil." He shook his head and placed his arm back under the ranger that he had managing to support with one arm for a few seconds.

Erestor scowled and said, "the other belongs to Prince Legolas then?" he inquired slowly as he thought things through.

Glorfindel answered quickly and yet unrushed, "yes, it is his." He scowled at the snow and scuffed the ground with the toe of his boot carelessly. He watched the ground and his foot for a fleeting moment before raising his fair-haired head to look Erestor in the eye, "I do not think Farlost is far away. I do not know the entire way, for I have never been there, but perhaps these horses can show us the rest of the way there."

Erestor looked Glorfindel back in the eye and battle flickered in his own dark ones. "Lord Glorfindel," he began thickly, "you are mad!" His thick voice turned into a scolding growl and he said, "they have no saddles, not even a bridle!" he pointed out tersely and all but shaking his finger like mother to a child at the Gondolin Lord. Glorfindel had a half-amused smile creeping across his face and it finally, despite all attempts, turned into an all out grin and then a gathering chuckle.

"Erestor, do not tell me you can't ride a horse bareback. I know you can!" he laughed and proceeded to look the animal's over to see if they were fit for riding. But then he looked at the snow, it was deep, they would flounder and get no where.

Erestor rolled his eyes and snapped, "of course I can1 But in this snow it is more than dangerous for both Elf and beast, do you know that?" He glared at Glorfindel as though the other was completely stupid.

Glorfindel frowned and said in response, "I know that! But I can't carry Estel and find strength to reach Farlost with him. Now unless you think you can muster up enough strength to bear him the rest of the way, we are going to try and ride these horses there, or at least I am going to set Estel on one."

Erestor muttered, "I suppose that is not a bad idea. But honestly, I can carry him Lord Glorfindel. You underestimate me, do you know that?" He frowned before asking with narrowed eyes as he looked at the snow, "do you think Thranduil has sent an envoy out to look for Legolas and Rothinzil. They can't have returned there or their horses would not be here. They are in trouble and we are not enough to get them out of it. It has worked out in the past, yes, but I can a feeling that tell me it will take more than what Elves have to offer. I think as men started it, men will finish it."

Glorfindel sighed and said, "I am sure that King Thranduil is doing his best right now and as Legolas is usually late for everything he may or may not think anything is wrong. Coupled with, the Anduin has finally been made uncrossable."

Erestor looked at Glorfindel with a look of annoyance and said in a low tone, "fine, you win, we will ride the horses to Farlost, get aid and then go from there."

Glorfindel chose Legolas' horse for his mount and patted the gray animal's head in a gentle caress. The mare snorted and then her nose touched Aragorn's blanched face in a concerned sort of nudge as if to say, 'where is Legolas? What is happening?'

Glorfindel stroked the horse's nose again and then called to Erestor curtly. "Get mounted, then I am going to hand Estel up to you and mount this horse of Prince Legolas'. You then will hand Estel back up to me unless you want to carry him the rest of the way."

The councilor of Rivendell frowned and said quietly so it was nearly stated to himself, "I can look after Estel for a time." He looked at the horse as he stood next to her and patted her dark near black side gently. Then, with the skill only an Elf could possess, he mounted her and was seated comfortably on top of her. It had been long since he had ridden bareback. But it was one of those things that came back.

He felt as comfortable on the horse as he did on the ground. He recalled how when he was younger his father had taught him to ride. But beyond that it brought back memories that did not bear remembrance. Narrowing his brows he looked at Glorfindel, "you may hand Estel up to me now Lord Glorfindel."

Glorfindel carefully handed up the ill human to the raven-haired councilor who just as conscientiously received him and set the man before him on the horse's back. Glorfindel shot Erestor a calculating glance and then asked nearly mistrustfully, "are you set Lord Erestor?"

"I am as always Lord Glorfindel," voiced the dark-haired Elf with voice that made it seem as though he wanted to go riding off now instead of waiting on the other's concern for him. He could take care of himself after all. Just because he did not leave Rivendell often did not mean he was made of glass. Glorfindel treated him like a sneeze would shatter him.

The golden-haired Elf said nothing, but went ahead and jumped up onto Naneth's back. The horse stepped sideways and Glorfindel adjusted to the creature's pace with much ease. She snorted and Glorfindel patted her neck as his blue far-seeing eyes darted to the horizon. He saw a valley ahead, mist lay around it where it was chilling and damp. He had a feeling that beyond this little dint in the land the town of Farlost was delved.

Erestor followed Glorfindel's eyes as though an invisible line linked them to the valley that was just ten minutes ahead. They did not know it was the same one as the one Aragorn had traveled through. Erestor frowned and said glumly, "so we have to cross that?"

Glorfindel said sarcastically, "unless you have a pair of wings hidden somewhere, yes. I am sure even you can tell that is the quickest way and time is chiefly what we need." The speaking Elf clicked his tongue softly and Naneth broke into a trot that soon developed into a splendid canter, sending powdery drifts of snow up from the cold ground.

Erestor watched the yellow-haired immortal for a moment before shaking his head and then nudging his own mount with his boot heels and followed after Glorfindel. He held Estel close to insure that the mortal would not slip from the mare's back as they galloped towards the town.

It was not more than a few seconds when he rode up alongside Glorfindel and the Gondolin lord looked at him and smiled, "decide to join me Lord Erestor?"

Erestor crinkled his brow and asked with a scornful laugh in his voice, "I had to or leave the poor town at your questionable sanity. Surely they deserve better than that?" he probed with a slight grin that Glorfindel had never seen before.

"Erestor were you actually attempting in a jest, though it was unsurprisingly off humor?" asked the Balrog-Slayer over his shoulder as his horse sprinted ahead, kicking up powder into Erestor's dark hair, causing the stated Elf to revolve his eyes upward to see the white flakes. The wind he and horse's speed were generating quickly blew the frozen crystal's from his dark strands that flailed behind him.

The councilor frowned and said, "I was, as a matter of fact, serious Lord Glorfindel. And if I would have had humor, it would have been very well placed," he added scrupulously and with raised brows.

It was only moments before they would reach the valley and an ill odor defiled the air about them causing the horses to stop and snort in disgust and fear, for it was the odor of the dead. The frozen and yet still decaying corpses in the valley. But Glorfindel had not reached the valley yet and it's mystery. They did not know about the deaths of the town's men and the foul orcs of the Misty Mountain's.

>>>>>>>>>>

Celebalda scanned the forest floor beneath his feet from where he stood in the tree. He had been posted here for four days to wait for Legolas' return, but the prince had not come. Of course it might take longer than four days, but he would know if Legolas was coming because in the winter, with his keen Elven vision, he could see campfires out in the distance as the prince drew nearer and now, he saw none. The leaves were so thick in Mirkwood that snow did not even reach the forest floor, but formed like a canopy above and sifted through between the leaves whenever the wind blew.

The crease between the brows of the Elf-captain showed his disturbed demeanor and his narrowed eyes that he sported made one keenly aware of his frustration. It was time to return home, but Legolas would not be accompanying him. He was not sure what he was going to tell King Thranduil, but he knew he would have to face his liege and the other Elves of Mirkwood when they heard that their prince had not come back.

Then again, maybe Legolas was just late again. It would not surprise him, or half of the inhabitance of Mirkwood, but he had a strange foreboding that something was most definitely wrong. Glancing once more at the ground below, he dropped judiciously down and bent his knees to absorb the impact. His dark hair fell around his face and sneaked out from beneath his cloak hood.

Frowning, he flipped his hair away and straightened his outer mantle before beginning back towards the palace.

I was no more than a few hours or so away if he rode a horse there, but being an Elf, he could run the distance and make good time. That, however, was not his intent, or at least not entirely. He wanted to make good time, but that would mean facing Thranduil's inevitable wrath quicker and that was one thing he did not want to do.

It was not that he feared his lord, but that like anyone, he did not like getting very nearly screamed at, or scolded, even if it was not directed at him. Sighing as he walked towards his home, he began to contemplate whether or not he should break into an even run and make all haste back.

At last he decided darkly that if he did not get back quickly, Thranduil would be even more displeased and that would do nothing to help matters at hand. So, after drawing a deep breath, the Elf-captain of all Mirkwood's guard broke into a run through the brush. He wished he had brought his horse, but with the orcs that often patrolled the borders near Mirkwood as one went further south, he had not even considered it for two reasons. First of all, it is harder to hide a horse and secondly, he dared not risk his horse being turned into some dinner of theirs.

"Legolas," he said to the trees as he ran, your father is going to kill you and most likely kill me. I highly doubt he has ever heard the saying, 'don't shoot the messenger'." The dark-haired Elf smiled and said; "If I am lucky you will show up just in time to claim the blame as usual."

He smacked a branch out of his way and picked up his pace a little bit. He was going to go a little faster until he was out of the southern border where the risk of an orc attack was constant. By the Valar, prince or not, he was going to strangle that scrawny little Elf as sure as the sun rose in the east and set in the west!

As he contemplated ways to waylay the prince as he traveled through the forest, painful memories rose from the back of his mind, sifting to the front. Things he had not thought about for along time and he shoved them back, but not before feeling a diminutive mass maturing in his throat.

**TBC...well now, hmmmmm,Tin, wonder what will happn to our dear little Rothinzil now? ****Yes...we wonders. Please don't hurt us! He might be alive! -pokes Elf with stick- Wake up? Uh-oh! Maybe we did too much ofgood-ur...we mean...bad thing...**

**Review please? We want to know what you think, esp. if you areRothinzil (the doll baby) fan! **

**Review Responses:) Thanks mellyn nin! We love these so much. **

**Marie Delcore:** Hey mellon nin! Oh yes, poor, poor Legolas. Hey, you were warned girl, you were warned. Yes, the dear ranger is dying...poor little guy. You figured? Ha! That is only because we talked to you at lunch oh wise one! LOL We think those kisses might tire him out or really get annoying after a while. Legolas still needs to be alert miss Delcore. LOL 'Chocolatize'? Interesting...very interesting...hmmmmmmm...but why make the pain go away---ur we mean...pain is SO bad. LOL Thanks for the funny review, friend.

**Nefhiriel:** Yes, well we love-ur-hate cliffies.E-mail can be such a bor, can't it? But without it, what is left in the world? Okay, we exaggerate. LOL Yes, not once but twice. That is always a thrill, huh? We feel that way about Cassia and Sio's or Nili's! Oh, dopn't worry, Aragorn had better quite complaining, he has a long ways to go yet. LOL Thanks for the cute and interesting review. :)

**Deana:** 'Poor Legolas'? Try _very_ poor Legolas! LOL! Thanks for the review. :)

**elitenschwein:**Yay! Laptops rock. Awwww...thanks. Well, we don't really like creating female OC's, but it seemed to thing to do at the time. Glad we seem to be describing her well. It is hard to write about females, I guess because we are so used to writing about guys even though we are girls. LOL Yes! A green Erestor -insert snickers- might be a little less shocking, but -snorts here- you never know. Oh he will live...muahahahahahahaha! Okay...so we got a little carried away. Anyway...he will live, but just not happily for a long time. Thanks for the wonderful review:)

**Snow Glory:** Yes, he is an absolute doll baby! -cuddles Elf tightly and places bonnet on head before smiling proudly- See? LOL Yes, he gets to go and work in the mines. Oh boy! Just what he always wanted to do. Work in the pitch dark and get the snot knocked out of him periodically. Oh, yeah! Dumdadadadum! Elf power! This was a nice review. Hope you don't get into trouble for reviewing and being late! We would feel horrible. Thank you so much for sending it and braving dangers while doing so though:)LOL

**Snowy:** Hehehehehe. A new reviewer! Thank you, glad you like it:)


	13. The Hell Fire

_**CHAPTER 13**_

_The Hell Fire _

Legolas woke slowly, his head was reeling and that was an understatement, he thought wryly as he gingerly tried to bring the room that seemed to be swirling into focus. He found that he was not alone as he tried to shift into what could be called a sitting position. Hands pressed on his shoulders and securely kept him from moving at all. He bit back a cry as he felt fingers probing along the large and long gash he had received running from his hip down to his knee. These men, as he guessed they were, were none too gentle and he struggled to try and get out of their grasp. A strong voice commanded him in such a way he suddenly felt compelled to listen, which disturbed him greatly, "be calm Elf, we are not trying to harm you. That would do neither of us any favors at this point, I think, though that may change."

Legolas knew then that he was still in the world of men, in the mines; for no Elf would call him 'Elf'. It was a fact that he was bitter to admit. He bit back another cry of agony as his injured leg was jostled and asked the human that had been addressing him earlier, "are you sure of that assertion Master human? Can you verify it for me?"

"Indeed, I am sure. Your wound is great and needs stitches, but it is coming along nicely. You soon shall be able to fight again." Legolas winced as his world came into focus and he saw the man, tall and muscular from labors in the mines looming above him with raised brows," and you will fight," he added tensely.

Legolas muttered nearly to himself, but audible enough the man could hear and understand in no uncertain terms what it meant, "don't be so sure. Even the wise cannot see all ends." His blue eyes met the addressed mortal with malice that was slowly building. They looked as though they were deep pits of blue ice as they returned the human's baleful glare to the tiniest sliver of ire and scorn.

"How right you are Elf, how right you are," answered the man in turn and he smiled in a knowing and mocking smile that taunted Legolas' hold on his temper dangerously. He narrowed his eyes for greater affect and continued undaunted.

"Glad we can agree on something," he responded in a tone that rang with a dreadful sardonic chill that Legolas had purposefully placed into his voice for emphasis. He swallowed another cry of sharp pain that was lancing up his leg at intense intervals. However, he kept his gaze calculatingly dead of emotion save for the fire in his eyes that glowed as though nothing could quench it; nothing could put it out.

"You taunt me Elf. And how can I refuse to answer your challenge? However, now is not the best time, as you are healing and I have patience to spare….at least for the moment," he added with a sigh that made Legolas' blood pressure rise another notch. He just raised a brow and said;

"Go ahead and kill me master Human."

"Perhaps later, but that is up to you Elf," answered the tall man rather briskly before inclining his head ever so slightly to the right and staring down at Legolas as though the prince was an object that he had to find a clear space for on a shelf. However, Legolas thought that if he were an object, he would not be collecting dust.

Legolas watched the man intensely, thinking of a sharp remark, probably worthy of gathering a painful punishment. But sanity's thin tendrils grasped hold of him just in time to spare him the breath it would take to make such a statement. He was growing obnoxiously weary of staring back at this boring human and he tossed his gaze amongst the other men that were holding him to the ground as his leg wound was cleansed and they prepared to apply stitches. Legolas was sure they were going to make the stitches be an utter torment and he made a mental note not to even so much as hiss when the needle pricked his flesh.

Suddenly he heard a cry, unpolished and certainly more than furious scream, "you little rapscallion! Do you want King to rip you apart again or are you just stupid?"

Legolas snapped his head towards the tunnel that he just came to the realization was behind him and heard the dull noise of chains clinking and scraping and of feet scrambling on the floor. He heard another voice scream, come and get me! I will take on all of you! Right now! I dare you to attack me! I dare you!" it finished in a lethal voice that was loud enough for all in that meticulous part of the mines to hear.

Legolas crinkled his brow, for the voice sounded so familiar and yet he could not place it. King rolled his eyes and inclined his head the other way in exasperation before saying with a sigh, "the little whirlwind has been loosed again I see." Legolas looked at the man with a clueless expression before he recalled that was not going to make him seem anymore wise or resistant. "I had best go deal with him." He took and unwound a scourge from his side ere he walked stiffly off towards the tunnel where the screams were eliciting from. For the entire world, it sounded like a cat fight or a dangerous battle between a warg and a prey that had seemed smaller than it really had actually turned out.

Legolas struggled to get up and was rewarded with a slap on his face. "Hold still damn it!" Legolas struggled further and ignored the burn he felt on his features. But they pinned him down and he winced, biting back a hiss when he felt the sharp spiny point of the needle press into his skin near his knee, where one end of the gash ended.

Legolas suddenly heard a screech, "touch me again you miserable cowards! Go ahead, kill me! I do not fear death!" He wondered who was causing such a stir that the men's ire was fully gathered towards this being that according to words spoken before, was short and yet mighty.

He looked over between winces and saw the men returning and in tow behind them was a short being…. short Elf! This immortal had flaming red hair streaked with bright blond and he was resisting for all he was worth. His heels were pressed into the ground, digging up dirt and pebbles; his face was contorted in a rage.

When the torchlight fell upon the haggard and yet strong features, Legolas saw that this Elf actually had a few freckles.

But this was not what had the blond Elf's jaw dropped in shock, though it was an odd characteristic sure enough.

Legolas knew this small Elf. He had a been the talk all over Mirkwood since the day he and his identical twin brother were born a few weeks after Legolas had. But that was not the reason Legolas recalled him so sharply.

Though Legolas had been a foot and some considerable inches taller, this cheeky Elf had beat him up unmercifully and had been so horrible that Legolas had hid under his mother's skirt on a few occasions before he had mastered the art of self-defense. Even then this little red-head had given him a run for his money and Legolas had to admit that he had still been frightened of the younger being.

It had become such a problem though, that the juvenile Elf's father, Captain Celebalda, had seen it fit to send the young menace to the Gray Havens, lest he should he banished and die with no hope of cure for his rebellious and temper biased nature.

But that day, when this small Elf was to be sent to the Gray Havens with his mother, his twin brother, who was of a much more gentle and docile nature, his sister and some other random Elves who agreed to guard the family, met an evil fate.

It was only this Elf's sister, Aredhel, who returned and told the whole tale of what had occurred. But she did not return until late in that season.

It was then that they had learned what had befallen the party of Elves that was on their way to the ships.

Men had attacked them and their defense had not been strong enough. She and her two brother's, along with some of Mirkwood's finest archers had fought valiantly to protect their mother, But fate had indeed been stronger and in the last stand she had been wounded and unable to protect her brother's, who were younger. Her silver hair had fallen over face and to all appearances, she seemed dead.

But the more violent of the brothers, the one here with Legolas now, had stayed by his twin's side. He had fought to the last bit of strength he could find, but he had not saved his dear brother that he loved. As an arrow was shot at him, he ducked it and from lack of experience did not call out for those behind him to duck. The shaft sank into his brother's throat and slayed him cruelly.

As the small Hell Fire of red-head held his dying brother, he was overborne by many and dragged away, fighting and screaming at his captors the entire way.

This was all they had ever known of him until now.

"Caranfëa," murmured Legolas quietly to himself as he pulled the name from memory. His face was paler and his eyes wider. He suddenly yelped as he came to the realization that these men who had captured him were continuing to apply stitches and that needles, like all things spiny, were sharp. Imagine that! He said to himself and inwardly slapped his own face. " Caranfëa!" he called out to the short Elf that was still making quite a scene and jerking wildly against his bonds like a mad thing of some odd species of warg.

The red-headed immortal halted and looked at Legolas through a set of narrowed eyes that were slits of bright green under his perfect red brows that crinkled and made a definite crease between them; a sign of his uncertainty and extremely unpleasant mood. He frowned and asked in the Gray Tongue, "who are you? Why are you here?"

It had been long since he had since another Elf. Indeed, it frightened him slightly. He stopped fighting and stared intensely at the prince that he had not seen for quite some time. "Prince Legolas?" he asked in the Elven tongue again, though it was in a mere hush of a tone that could hardly been heard by any Elf's exquisite hearing.

Legolas nodded and a smile touched his lips. The other frowned darker and glared up at his subjugators with a look of shear defiance in his emerald green eyes that were so bright they nearly glowed in the dark.

The man that had been called King earlier dropped the chain manacles attached to Caranfëa's wrists and ankles, that he had been using the extra length of to beat the Elf into submission and as though what he'd had done was a mere nothing and then he began to walked stiffly over to Legolas, where he lay on the ground somewhat in shock. Not shock of these abominable men's cruelty, that would hardly surprise anyone; no, it was the fact that this Elf long thought to be dead….lived. He was not an Elf that Legolas had really ever wanted to see again, though he had not wanted him dead either, but now it was welcoming to know that another being with the fire of life still hot within him dwelled here. It meant that perhaps he had a slight chance.

King….if that was this foul and grossly cruel human's name, was not going to give them a chance if he could help it however. Legolas spared him an incredulous and baleful glare that would quite probably have a made a Balrog run in hot pursuit of the opposite direction. But this, however, left King unmoved. He merely inclined his head to the left and stared down at the Elf again as he gestured for the men holding the struggling Caranfëa between them to lock him away and rotated his eyes to insure that his bidding was done and hurriedly. That was not necessary though, for the men all held him in high regard from fear….or some other reason Legolas did not yet know.

His eyes slid over the prince's wound and then looked into his eyes with a smile, "don't tell me that does not hurt. I know it does. Otherwise, why would you try to be more defiant than what you really are when you are so very tired?" The tone in the mortal's voice was by itself a good enough reason for the prince to leap to his feet and place his hands around that human's skinny neck and squeeze.

The fair-haired Elf answered quickly, "I defy you on basic principal Master Human." He spat at King's feet and the man took a step back. Legolas smirked slightly and he could not deny that he had not enjoyed that brief moment of control.

"So you admit to be tired? You admit your leg pains you then Elf?" King raised his brows and began to walk in a small circle about the blonde being, Legolas did not move his head, but his eyes trailed the human with every move made.

"I admit nothing." The prince's tone was flat but far from empty or hollow.

King snorted and said, "whatever you say Elf." Then he looked at the men returning; "put him away next to that red-head and make sure he gets fed. I want him to be ready for the Pit in at least two weeks; less if possible."

Without a word to question their leader's request, the men surrounded Legolas and gripping under his arms, proceeded to help the Wood-Elf onto his feet. Legolas resisted the urge to fall onto his mutilated leg. The pain was nearly more than he could bear, for the stitches had not been well administrated and would most likely make the wound worse. He would have to take them out himself and the thought made him ill to the stomach.

They did not have to force him to walk far and he did not struggle much, now was the time to regain his strength and prepare to break free of this horrible dark prison from which their was seemingly no escape.

When he stood before a near cage like prison that was only big enough to hold one and looked all too close in resemblance to that of a bear cage, he felt his heart beat quicken and his anger rise perilously close to the bursting point. _If you knew how close I was to strangling all of you…… _he seethed inwardly before reason spoke to him that they would only laugh, for he was in no position to be giving orders or fighting.

Shoving him in, they slammed the grated door behind him and Legolas spun around to watch as they clicked the lock into place. Somehow he got the vague impression that they were not about to let him out anytime soon and he sighed inwardly. He missed Rothinzil and wanted so much to see his friend's innocent and joyous face. But he doubted that would ever happen again. Rothinzil was not a fighter unnecessarily, he would quite willingly die first and Legolas felt pain flood his heart as he thought of the probable ending of his friend's life.

Rothinzil would die alone, in pain and scared. He could not believe that was the fate the Valar seemed to presenting him with. And then he recalled Aragorn, but something inside made him refuse to believe that the human was dead. He could not be, it just was not feasible…no….it was more than that. It was the simple fact that if Aragorn was dead, hope was taken from him….from him and the rest of the world.

Caranfëa looked at Legolas with a glare that Legolas thought was forever going decorate the other's facade and the little Elf asked softly, "Prince Legolas, how did you end up here? What have they done to you?" His eyes were transfixed pointedly upon Legolas' leg that was still covered in his dried and caked crimson blood.

Legolas grimaced and answered back near as mellifluously but with a laugh in his voice as he actually took the time to think over what had happened, "would you believe me when I say a warg did it?" A warg of all things! He could have killed it under usual circumstances. But these were not usual circumstances try as he might to think of them as thus.

Caranfëa grimaced as well and he nodded, "aye, I would believe you." He brushed a piece of red hair from his face and gave a half-hearted laugh, "I would never have thought to find you hear my lord." His green eyes flicked with a slight amusement.

Legolas said practically to himself, "Neither would I." Then he answered a bit louder, "You have changed, Caranfëa."

The smaller Elf nodded and said slowly, "yes and it is not for the better, let me tell you!" There was a jaded look to his eyes that Legolas had never seen before and the fire seemed to dim. A light that had once hung around this Hell Fire of an Elf seemed to fade ever so slightly and Legolas felt scared for a brief moment. "I can't take this much more. Are any others with you? If so, I fear for their lives. Especially if they are caught by that mad man, Calmir or what ever his filthy name is," seethed the younger Wood-Elf angrily.

Legolas felt his eyes widen and he swallowed hard. _Rothinzil_! "One was taken with me, yes. He is with…that man you name." He looked at the floor and slid down along the bars to his prison, the place where he was now certain he would die. He felt his eyes sting as he thought of gentle Rothinzil, lying on the floor with blood flowing from his mouth and his body marred beyond repair or desire to be mended. His eyes still and staring upwards, wide and lost.

All this because of a mad man's ill conceived dreams and his sickening greed. It didn't make Legolas sick; it made him angry. Although, he had to admit, at this point that was not difficult.

Caranfëa bemoaned and said, "Legolas I am sorry. But do not give up yet. We might escape together and we can come back and free your friend." He inclined his head when he heard no answer, letting his long red hair slide down his shoulders and about his neck. "Prince Legolas?"

"You never give up do you, my friend?" he asked the other with a frown that turned slightly upwards in a hollow and sunless smile.

"I do make a point of not doing that, yes," answered Caranfëa chuckling slightly to himself and shaking his head. From where he sat in the corner of his 'cage' the younger Elf looked at Legolas with a frown. "You should not give up so easily."

The prince eyed him with provocation and said, "Who said I was giving up Master Caranfëa?" he raised a slight golden brow and shook his head, his pale hair falling over his face. "This is a resting interlude only." He shifted his weight and realized happily that he had one thing to be grateful for; the cursed collar that he had been obligated by that filthy Calmir to wear was missing and he was not the slightest bit lonesome for it.

Legolas looked down at the seeping wound that ran down his thigh. Where the stitches had been forcefully situated, the skin was turning a shocking flush of irritated red. Wincing inwardly he thought, "_those are going to have to be pulled. Valar_!" He ran his fingers lightly along it, taking in the infectious heat that it was emitting.

"Pardon?" asked Caranfëa, wrinkling his forehead and inclining his head as he gave the prince a incredulous look that plainly stated he was ignorant of the meaning of the assertion that his liege had spoken aloud.

Legolas gave the red-headed Elf a strange look of confusion and said, "excuse me? I never said anything…..did I?" He withdrew his finger quickly from where he had been tracing his burning laceration and clenched his hands unconsciously into balls.

"You most certainly did my lord," answered Caranfëa with a knowing grin and a small snort that turned into a light chuckle. "You said and I quote, 'those are going to have to be pulled. Valar!' To what were you referring? The stitches? Don't, they will only get worse. Trust me on this," he answered truthfully. He had found that much out from personal experience.

Legolas grumbled nearly under his breath and pragmatically below a whisper, "and what makes you so sure?" He was not in a splendid mood after all and Caranfëa had never served as a joyous Elf at any time, but especially now. Oh, most definitely now, more than ever.

Legolas gave him a bitter glare and his narrowed his eyes as he waited for a hard reply that he knew he would get. Sure enough, Caranfëa was not about to break tradition and answered sharply, "Legolas Thranduillion! Elbereth! You just can't ever be erring can you? That is a weakness you know!" He did not say this with good nature and as a matter of fact, he said it about an inch far away from as bitterly as bitter sayings go. "I know from personal experience that if you mess with them, they get worse. They are designed that way, I think. It is my theory that they have placed a sort of venom in them that can only be activated by the stitches being pulled free and scrapping off the vile stuff onto the laceration, somehow freeing an odd poison."

Legolas rolled his eyes and inquired with a thick growl, "have I ever told you that you are utterly and unquestionably insane?" He was beginning to recall just how annoying this little red-head was. But he had never really pushed it beyond recollection. It was not something that one forgot within a few thousand years.

He then crinkled his face and asked ethereally, "what happened after you were sent away?" He frowned and looked at the floor darkly, as though it might just somehow have gotten them here. "We never knew exactly what happened after your sister was wounded and your brother……" he did not finish. He did not need to. They both knew and that was enough. He drew a shaking breath and spoke quietly, "your father misses you. He has changed since….that particular….incident."

Caranfëa went completely quiet and then answered gruffly and with the air of a question heavy on his voice as he skeptically eyed the prince who returned the look perfectly, "Are you sure you want to know? If you want to run away in terror that's fine with me. But honestly you may not be able to sleep tonight."

"You would not ask me that question, did you know more of what fates have befallen my life since your departure."

"Very well, but really, you don't want to know my lord." He sighed, gathering up everything that beared recollection, things he had not purposefully forgotten. He kept his eyes on the floor as he spoke and picked up a piece of straw in his fingers and twirled it nervously as he spoke. "I was sold to orcs first." A green flame rose in his substantially phosphorescent eyes as he spoke. "They 'played with me' for two days before I was able to escape. The wounds do not bear remembrance, so do not ask."

"But eventually I was recaptured by them, with their dog like noses that they used to track me down. But they were tired of dealing with me and so they 'played' with me some more and then I was left for dead in the bottom of a ravine near here actually. But men found me. At first I was scared, but they were kind, until they noticed my ears and how I was so different than themselves. Then they began to treat me cruelly and I was made more or less into a slave."

"I escaped once, but they recaptured me and I was branded." He did not, much to Legolas' surprise, shiver at this memory. Really, it did not take the prince that much by surprise the more Legolas thought about it. Caranfëa was a tough Elf and not capable of feeling complete terror.

However, the thought of a brand took the blonde Elf's breath away and he inwardly cringed. He could not imagine the searing pain that would score that burn unmercifully. And if that was horrible, Glorfindel and the Balrog had to be ten times as horrible.

Legolas asked as quietly as possible, "but surely these are not the same men…that would make them……"

Caranfëa shook his head and said swiftly, "of course not! I have been sold and sold over and over from old men to young and young men to old. Until finally, after an unfortunate incident (for them), I was sold at the rock bottom price of a bottle of mead! If you can imagine that!" He scowled darkly and his thoughts fell back to his anger from that day.

"How long have you been with this man…King….or whatever his loathsome name is?" asked the golden-haired prince, inclining his head slightly in mystification as he heard the growled reply.

"Oh I have lost track really, but I would have to guess at least around one-hundred years. No more I think," he answered as he tossed the piece of old straw his fingers had been playing with into a dark corner.

Legolas narrowed his eyes as soon as he realized that they had shot completely wide of their normal size and form. "How is that even remotely possible?…Unless……" He swallowed hard and Caranfëa nodded gloomily, his red hair shifting over his façade hiding his grave features.

"He is a Dark Dúnadan, Legolas."

Elméra scrupulously eyed the underground stables where the mules were kept and her eyes narrowed with either determination or wrath. At the moment, she was not sure which. It was most likely both, decided the women briskly. She stood quietly behind a pole attached to the rafters to keep the entire passage way from collapsing into a mass of rock and dust, killing the inhabitance. Her fingers began to drum on the rough-hewn wood uneasily, making a quiet and nearly pleasant clicking noise.

The mules' heads came from their stalls to look for the source of the new noise in their dark environment as they munched straw and oats. One gave a snort and she watched its breath rise into a cloud of dim steam. Brushing some of her long hair aside, she carefully revealed herself to the creatures, so they would not frighten and announce her presence.

A shiver ran along her slim frame as she felt the cold of the winter creeping upon her. She had given her cloak to Rothinzil and now she had only her woolen dress, though that was not horrible when she thought of how she had seen the blonde Elf shirtless.

Rubbing her arms to generate more heat she went over to the stall that seemed to hold the tiniest and most gentle mule she had ever seen.

She had never been so mistaken in her life and she jerked back abruptly as the little creature tried to rip her sleeve with his huge buck teeth.

As she stumbled back, she snapped in a harsh whisper, "well you have a good day too, you grouch!" The mule's face seemed too smug and nearly had the quality of human smugness. Finding this quite disturbing and wondering if she had finally gone completely insane, the women walked over to another stall.

Inside was a large spotted mule, He was quietly munching his hay and he looked at her with large and perfectly gentle eyes that were a deep brown. A smile tugged at her lips, but recalling the immortal she had left dying on the floor of the arena, the maiden quickly grabbed the cotton lead rope that hung on an iron hook near the stall door handle before sliding the wooden latch back and swinging the oak door open.

As she cautiously entered the stall and felt the straw beneath her feet crunch, she watched the creature before her intensely. He seemed hardly concerned about her approach and she could hear his jaws working vigorously as he hurried to gobble up as much food as he was capable before being led out to work as he supposed the reason of her appearance meant.

He seemed to be as calm as a pond in the late afternoon as the sun lazily dances on its waters. His eyes watched her and flickered with friendliness. She smiled and as she drew nearer she soothed in s soft voice, "easy boy. I need your help, easy, easy." He snorted and allowed her to slip lead rope beneath his chin where it connected to the rope halter that lined the mule's lean face.

Quietly she led him out and then she stopped alongside a small and yet moderately high wooden bucket that had been tipped over and obviously, if foot prints were any judge, been used to mount and harness the taller mules before.

She was an experienced rider and could ride almost any horse (or mule), though she most definitely preferred the friendly ones. This gentle creature animal had no saddle, but should that thwart her? Exactly, she said inwardly as she mounted the wooden stool. It wouldn't; at all.

Once she was mounted the animal began to walk as though he knew exactly what this strange and demanding woman expected of him. He was also more than willing to oblige.

His footsteps were light and yet not timid. A cold smile played across her pale façade as her narrowed and chilled eyes that were jaded scanned the mine shaft for any signs that there were miners about, especially her brother.

Now the challenge was getting to that poor hazel-eyed Elf before he died. Yes, she thought dreamily, his eyes were a brilliant and actually attractive shade of hazel touched with an abnormal quantity of green. But what was she thinking? Was she going crazy? He was an Elf and an ill one at that. All she was trying to do was save him, wasn't she?

Patting the course and hairy neck of the beast of burden, she said, "now follow my lead." Carefully she guided the docile animal towards the lengthy passage that led back towards the ring….where Rothinzil lay bleeding and _fading_.

Although she made it back to the ring moments later with no incident, what she would find would be far worse than encountering her brother and all his animosity. She looked and saw the dark-haired Elf lying on the ground and as though for the first time realized how much blood he had truly lost from that horrible wound. His face was whiter than the snow that covered the ground above them and then she saw he was not moving, not shivering and in the dark his skin looked phosphorescent with the glow of one drained, but the light she had seen him holding earlier seemed dead.

Her breath was stolen away, otherwise it is more than probable that she would have screamed. Elméra placed a hand gingerly over her mouth and slid from the mules' back , landing gracefully onto the supple ground with straw. She continued to blindly stare at the still and pale figure that lay on his back in the straw about him that was stained with his own blood.

Elméra did not know what she felt. She seemed numb, like she felt no pain at all but certainly not joyous. She inclined her head slightly as she walked closer and removed her hand from around her mouth, allowing it to fall limply to her side as she stepped closer to the Elf that she had seen alive only moments ago.

She did not even feel fear, but rather something else completely intangible to all of her senses. It was bewildering and she shivered against her will as a chill draft blew through the now deserted mine shaft. It seemed eerily ghost like and she could see the phantoms of the crowd that had filled the small room to bursting only hours ago.

Elméra jumped lightly down and the straw made a dead thudding sound under her feet. She kicked a clump of it aside in deep frustration and ran the rest of the way to Rothinzil's body and she crouched by it.

She felt her chin quiver just a little as she looked at the long serene face that was colorless with blood lining his whitish gray lips. Her hand trembled and she did not know why, as she reached it out and wiped the dark strands of hair away from his face and ran her fingers along his right cheek bone set her fingers under his chin, tipping his head back.

Elméra had never felt this way about anyone before, not even her closest friend who had died not too long ago of a strange plague. She set two fingers along the jugular of his neck and gently felt for a pulse to come from the cold body. She bit her lower lip, hoping and praying that he was merely unconscious and that she might be able to bring him back.

Her breath seemed stolen away once more and she trembled with excitement uncontainable as she felt the pulse, slow and barely there, residing in his neck vein. Elméra smiled coldly and yet with so much joy that the sun seemed to beam from her face. "you live Rothinzil, you live."

But she did not know how to bring him up. He was completely out of it and Elméra did not have the strength to lift his body. For once she felt genuinely defeated and she sat by Rothinzil, picking up one of his hands and giving it a tight squeeze more to reassure herself than the inert Elf.

Elméra looked up at the mule and wondered if ever she could ever convince the stubborn creature to come down here and kneel lower so she could pick up the dying immortal.

Her thoughts drifted back to where she had heard tales as a young girl on her father's knee about Elves and how they walked on snow in perfect balance without leaving a trace they were ever there. Perhaps they were not all that heavy. After all, she was lighter than most men and this Elf certainly was male, and yet she never had been able to walk on snow.

There was a chance then that Elméra could bear him out of the pit or at least close enough she could rest a moment and pull him the rest of the way out.

She could not think of any other way and cautiously, almost as though she was afraid to touch him, which she actually was, she gathered him up into her arms as gently as she might, ignoring the scarlet liquid that tainted her gown a strange shade of purplish-red hue and bleed through in a fan shape to seep onto her under layers.

His head rested against her shoulder and she looked at him for a moment before she staggered up, finding the burden of carrying this Elf to be surprisingly buoyant. It was not the weight of the dead; that was for sure. She felt her heart speed up as she thought that he was alive and had a chance.

She suddenly felt him stir and looked gingerly down with wide eyes as his hazel eyes opened came into a bleary focus. He blinked and drew a shaking breath and she knew it was a sign of intense pain. His face was paler with waking as the agony became all too real and she could feel his heart rate dropping as it beat against her hand that was across his chest in the act of trying to hold this Elf up. His eyes fluttered once more and he knitted his brows as he felt the pain lancing in his side and his own hot blood covering his middle. The coppery taste of sanguine fluid in his mouth made him wince and he asked softly, "where am I?"

She smiled sadly and said, "still in this cursed pit. I am trying to save you Rothinzil." She looked at her ensanguined hand that was covered with his life's blood. Her voice sounded strong and magical; it made the Elf smile slightly.

The dark-haired archer felt her hand shaking and he grasped hers in his cold one and spoke slowly, "you d-d-d-don't h-have to d-do this. L-L-Let me die." He began to shake with shock and he seemed to be turning colder faster. The blood became more manifested around his mouth and he swallowed some of it down distastefully.

She clutched him close and said, "don't be ridiculous. You can't die! You are an Elf!" She scowled and then she saw his eyes fluttering as he struggled to keep them focused and opened.

He croaked, "that d-d-d-does n-nothing for w-w-wounds." His voice was becoming a whisper and she suddenly felt more alone than she ever had before. She felt crushed and dismembered and all that she had ever felt sure of felt uncertain.

She began to walk to the edge of the gaping hole in the ground that they were trapped in and he mumbled softly, "l-l-l-let me go. I-I-It is no mercy to keep me alive now. P-P-Please don't do this." He drew in as deep a breath as he might and said, "i-i-it h-hurts…." he could not speak anymore and he looked at her a moment before he felt too weary to stay awake any longer. His eyes rolled back into his head and he went limp once more.

She felt her chin quaver and yet she was not going to cry. She just clutched him tighter against her body and placed her forehead on his white and clammy one.

Why was she acting this way? Why did she care whether this Elf she had only just met no more than a day ago lived or died? She had never cared before about Elves and had actually feared them, now she was trying to keep one alive. It all seemed so confusing and so bizarre that she felt quite over whelmed by the whole idea.

She could not erase his pain filled face from her mind and when he had looked at her before his eyes rolled away and the lids closed, it had seemed as though he would look that way forever. She whispered, "I suppose I am being rather selfish. But Rothinzil you have to understand. I feel as though we aren't so unalike, even though there is a world of difference between us." She sighed and said, "I love you my dear Elf and I can't let you go." Those words were a shock, but she still only half believed them, if even that much.

But he was fading whether by her will or not and she bit her lower lip to keep a cry of pain and of emotional torment back. She had been going through pain all her life, emotional, physical and now that this was here, she did not know what to do and it frightened her. This pain was unlike others and she trembled all over.

She was selfish, decided the women brutally about herself. Oh yes, quite selfish. He was in horrible agony and why did she want him to stay alive? Because she didn't want to be alive without him by her side. She was afraid to be alone again. But he was in so much pain that it wasn't fair.

Her thoughts were brought back to the obstacle that they both faced as the mule reached its nose down from above and brushed it lovingly against her hair.

She looked up with her own face white in shock and her breath coming fast and in bursts that strongly resembled sobs. She drew a breath that was as shaky as a young fawn learning to stand and then she looked down at the Elf whose head was laid against her upper arm and whose face still was grimaced in intense suffering.

She then pressed her lips into a thin line and using all of the strength she could find (most of which came from an overwhelming determination) she lifted him up higher and half-rolled, half-hefted the passed out Elf up onto the very edge of the pit that was to be his tomb only moments ago.

Glorfindel halted his mare and his golden brows came together in the center of his forehead as he felt alarm rising in his awareness. Something evil was about, he could feel it in his bones and he could sense it in the air. He looked to Erestor and said, "do you not sense it? We are coming to some great evil or my senses fail me."

Erestor pulled Estel closer as he felt his grip slacken for a brief moment. He narrowed his eyes in thought and answered slowly and in a flat and quiet voice, "I am not sure, but my theory is that orcs are about." He looked at Aragorn's pale face and back up at Glorfindel with a frown, "what are we going to do about it? We can't very well turn back. The snow will have blocked the way home by now and worse, there is Elrond to think of."

Glorfindel glared and then snorted, "you are very negative my friend." He drew a deep breath and let it out seemingly as slow as he was able. "Make sure your sword is loose in its sheath. I will keep my bow ready and if worst comes to worst, you are to make a run for it with Estel and I will cover you from behind."

Glorfindel looked at Aragorn and thought of when the man had been smaller, no more than a child. He was still hardly more than a child and Glorfindel would be damned if was going to let anything more happen to this mortal that he held so dear to his heart.

Erestor nodded and said, "I can fight Lord Glorfindel and if it comes to it I won't run." His voice turned hard and he actually had the look of ice in his eyes. They glittered in a way that Glorfindel had never seen and he saw for once that there was more to Erestor than met the eye. The counselor shifted on the horse's back and spoke wisely, "but I see the sense in what you say and am willing to go along with it…for now."

Glorfindel sighed and spoke all at once, "we must go ahead and hasten to the valley then, for if not we only put off the evil and as we put one evil off another grows." He looked at Aragorn pointedly and Erestor nodded his head again briefly and then inclined it and stared at the horizon.

"Does not a town loom up over there?" he asked and pointed to the opposite side of the valley. He hurriedly placed his arm back around the human to keep him from falling.

Glorfindel inclined his head as well and looked at the counselor in bewilderment that Erestor could not understand and it made a smile pull at his lips as the Gondolin Elf asked, "you can see that far?"

"Can't you?" he asked in a laughing voice. He looked around and asked, "can not everyone that is Elven?"

"No," answered Glorfindel quickly and actually rather tartly, "I can't!" He continued in a low voice, "you have the eyes of the Eagles of Manwë, Erestor." He was totally taken aback by this and Erestor seemed to be in shock. He shifted uneasily and looked at the snow as Glorfindel went on in a eerily calm voice, "Erestor, you never knew that? Well remember it! They will come in handy!" He spurred his horse gently and rode ahead towards the misty valley.

The impression one generally came under as he just simply gazed at the valley was that it was dark and dangerous. But as the Elves rode inside of it, amongst the boulders and crevices, it did not seem so evil and yet even more so. It was layered in a misty that gave it a sickening beauty meant to ensnare those who did not know better.

But the stench had worsened and as they came to the near center of the valley, they became keenly aware of the cause of the foal odor.

Bodies littered the ground about their feet, half-covered in snow followed by ice and camouflaged by mist that was their burial shroud. Black blood was all about the ground mixing with sanguine blood that came from men.

There was a fierce battle that had taken place here and Glorfindel, warrior at heart, was certain that danger would not be too hard to find and that they had better not stay and look for it, for it would eventually come to them. He set his face as though in stone and rode on through without stopping once…until he saw that Erestor was no longer following behind him.

The counselor was yards to the rear and his face was white as he stared at the twisted face of an orc that seemed to be wickedly grinning up at him. The raven-haired Elf seemed frozen, and he mentally speaking was. He knew that his notion was foolish, but he feared that the orc would leap up and run him through the stomach with the sword. No, it was not a sword, it was a scimitar, a crooked orc scimitar with a bent top. It was deadly weapon all the same and Erestor was entranced by its evil malice that still radiated from the creature and his lethal implements of war.

Glorfindel set a hand gently on Erestor's shoulder as he rode back the other Elf.

Erestor jolted and looked behind himself with wide eyes and dropped jaw. "Lord Glorfindel! Damn it all, you should rally tell someone if you are about to come up behind them! I could have killed you!" he snapped quickly and with such an angry voice that Glorfindel actually smiled. Erestor brushed the golden-haired Elf's hand off abruptly and growled, "stop it!"

Glorfindel smirked and said, "you should really learn to keep up."

Erestor rolled his eyes and looked stonily ahead before speaking thickly, "have I told you exactly how annoying you are?"

Glorfindel gave a wry laugh and answered, "recently or do you mean ever in this lifetime?"

Erestor seethed back nearly under his breath, "you golden haired., sarcastic…little…..little…imp!" He all but screamed at the Gondolin lord, "in your lifetime!"

Glorfindel actually laughed and responded in a mock tone, "let me think….at least once everyday!" he finished with a grin that made Erestor frustrated.

An eerie silence fell in the valley. It was as though it was listening to all that was being said between the two conscious companions. Erestor did not like it and he said to Glorfindel in a harsh whisper, "this valley has ears, or I am a fool. Let us get out of it before some terrible evil befalls us." The raven-haired Elf then heeled his horse and she began to trot forward, but her ears twitched nervously and she snorted.

Glorfindel stayed back a ways and looked around uncertainly, as though the rocks had evil faces and were scowling at him. He then heard the black-haired counselor take up his from earlier, "'you really should learn to keep up!'"

Deciding he was not going to let Erestor boss him around, the Elf of the ancient city of Gondolin heeled his horse hard enough to cause it to canter and he quickly passed the irate counselor, who just revolved his dark eyes in animosity.

He watched the golden-haired menace checked his horse to a stop, yards ahead and look back with a smirk that looked all too satisfied, in Erestor's opinion. Looking down at Aragorn's pale and languid form, he asked softly, "young one, how do you manage to keep a head on your shoulders between he, your brothers and that insane Wood-Elf that is somehow the crowned prince?" Then he chuckled and said, "you are like Elrond, though I suspect he is insane, but sane enough all the same to keep that fact hidden." But he felt sadness creep over his heart when the ranger did not answer back or even smile faintly; he remained more or less…dead.

When they came to the edge of the town, they were too weary from worry and sorrow to care if they got shot on sight. But they had to get Estel somewhere that he would be cared for.

The horses were limping and it was more than obvious that their feet were in horrible shape.

As they walked later among the houses and in the slush polluted streets they could feel eyes on them and finally up ahead they saw some marshals approaching, or so they guessed the men were, for they carried staves and were grim.

One walked up and placed a hand on the horse of Erestor, stroking the creature's neck and he said, "we cannot permit you to go further." His eyes swept over Aragorn and he was taken aback. He knew this man, he looked at Glorfindel, but quickly saw that this was not the same golden-haired being and this other dark-haired Elf was most assuredly not the klutz he had met prior.

Erestor put on his extremely diplomatic front and he answered, "Can you please explain why, for we mean to harm to your city, but seek aid only. Strider is hurt and is in dire need of your aid. We believe he was shot by a poisonous dart and the cure we know not. Every hour wasted hastened him towards death." He narrowed his eyes and asked firmly, "now are you going to help us, or are you going to thwart us?"

Glorfindel put on a rather stern and commanding front that commanded respect from all who saw the tall and beautiful Elf with golden hair that glinted in the late afternoon light like spun gold on a loom. Sitting tall he looked at the human before him and said bluntly, "we do not have time for you to contemplate the universe, just make up your mind!" he finished with a sigh.

Erestor shot him a look of annoyance that stated as though the counselor had spoken it, 'you have just made matters worse! Will you please be quiet?' He turned his head back in the direction of the men before him, particularly the one with his hand on the horse and he asked, "well? What is the head marshal's verdict? For I presume that is who you are, for you show the qualities of one capable of leading."

The man smiled, "flattering words are wasted on me Master Elf. I am not easily swayed on way or the other. But how do I know you speak the truth? I suppose you do not look evil, though I will admit I still do not trust Elves. You can tell that to your friends when you see them."

Erestor stopped and as he looked back at Glorfindel with a puzzled look, his head tilted and he asked quietly as he turned back around to face the man at his front, "our friends?" He furrowed his brows and asked, "of whom do you speak?" Legolas and Rothinzil? More than likely.

The man smiled grimly and said do not tell me you have never met two Elves days ago, one dark of hair and one golden. Much resembling you two," he finished with a snort. He did not know much about the immortal, but he had to wonder if the two encountered earlier had been indeed younger. For these two spoke wiser and had a sense of great age and yet timelessness about them.

Erestor smiled and said, "yes. We have and now we seek for them. For we have known them long and wish to find them. We fear that they may be in trouble." He shifted on the horse's bare back as he felt the town's people's scornful eyes one he and Glorfindel. It was a surprisingly frightening feeling that made him horribly uncomfortable. That thought alone was disturbing enough to make him edgy. He said in a growl, "tell me now, will you help us or thwart us. My patience grows thin."

The man shook his head, "alright Elf. Calm down, calm down!" He eyed the immortals as though he expected them to leap off the horses and throttle him. He cleared his throat and answered, "I shall take you to the master of the town. He can do with you as he wishes. It is beyond me to have anymore dealings with the fair folk."

Erestor was about to ride forward and then he stopped and stared down at the human, "'more dealings'? How long ago was it ere you spoke with the other two Elves you speak of?" Glorfindel sat in quiet thought upon his horse. Things were not quite adding up and he did not know why, but they wee not and he could tell that even Erestor had figured that much out.

"Not more than three days ago," answered the constable as he waved his men off and proceeded to guide the Elves towards his master's house. "But it is rather a disturbing tale that I will say no more of. However Ryxen should be able to make it clear to you both."

Glorfindel rode his horse up so he was riding along side the human and he said sharply, "if you know anything that can help us and withhold it so that their lives are destroyed you may find yourself in great peril ere you travel alone in the forest ever." He was not going to let his lord's son die because of this man's personal whims that he did not want to tell the whole tale because it was uncomfortable. The man did not respond and Glorfindel placed a slender and strong hand upon the human's shoulder and said, "am I understood then?"

"Get off of me Elf or you will be the one who should watch his back in the woods!"

"A wise being does at all times. You never know who or what could be waiting to end your life." The Gondolin Elf looked so serious that it made the human take a step back as the golden-haired Elf removed his hand quickly and gripped his horse's mane with it.

Soon they were in Ryxen's home and their horses being lead to the stables. The older man eyed the Elves and then his eyes fell upon the ranger and Erestor watched the color drain from the man's face. All he said in a quick and harsh whisper was, "follow me quickly."

The immortal's did not need to be told twice and trailed at the magistrate's heels.

The man opened a door to a small room with an equally small fireplace that cold and dark at the moment. He motioned to the bed and words were not needed. Erestor laid the man down on the bed as gently as he may and the man did not respond at all. His face seemed even paler and yet he breathed normally now and his pulse was well. This was a strange poison indeed.

Erestor looked at Glorfindel, but the other was staring at the shuttered windows, sparing with them in a dark glare. The midnight-haired Elf said quietly in Elven, "it was not your fault. You did nothing wrong. You could not have stopped this. If you want you may sleep and I will watch him for you-"

The counselor was cut off sharply as the Balrog-Slayer snapped, "Erestor put your tongue behind your teeth before I hurt you! It is my fault! I was commanded to make him come home and did not! He sighed and said, "how can you suggest that I sleep?" He shook his head and said stiffly, "I am going to go and talk with some people if I can and try to figure everything out."

He began to walk out towards the narrow hallway and Erestor stopped him, "you can talk here! You aren't going to leave me here, are you?" he asked softly. After all, he was not sure that he could trust these men in the least. And though he hated to admit it, he needed someone to protect him.

Glorfindel stared hard at him for a moment before saying slowly, "that is the general idea." And he turned his back to Erestor as the counselor crossed his arms and said crossly;

"Very well Lord Glorfindel! Be that way! I hope they lynch you!" he snapped and then spun back around to see the man bending over Estel and he was a picture of sorrow and grave anxiety as he looked a the wound in the man's shoulder and took the young ranger's pulse. He slid his eyes over the bloodied shoulder and discovered the wound. It had to be the cause of the sickness. But the man's vision suddenly blurred and a pain formed behind his eyes. He placed his fingers on the bridge of his nose and rubbed. Then his vision cleared as well as the pain. Because of his filmy vision, he did not see the arrowhead still engulfed in the wound.

Erestor asked, "what is it? Is he going to die?" asked the Elf somewhat briskly as he came and stood by the man's side and took one of Aragorn's cold hands in his own. Elrond was going to kill them. And he could not blame the Lord of Rivendell if he did and slowly!

The older mortal shook his head and ran his finger's through his thinning hair before saying in an jaded voice, "the more accurate question would be, is he going to live?"

Erestor felt the color drain from his features and asked softly, "what do you mean? He has to live! If he doesn't…" the Elf could not finish. The outlook was too bleak and his heart too weary. He asked quickly and in a incredulous tone, "are you sure that you are fit to diagnose?" He stammered, "could you not be mistaken?"

"I could be, yes. But I am not," he answered grimly and sank into a chair at the foot of the bed. "Your friend is poisoned with the weed _Gurththin. _It is known to most as the _sleeping death_.Cattle eat it and perish if they are not shot first, for there is no cure really. You either are strong enough to make it, or you die in your sleep." Erestor sat onto the bed by Aragorn and looked at the young ranger's face as the magistrate spoke these horrible words. "

"He may remain asleep for another week or even another three!" the man wrapped up his conclusion and finished, "keep him warm and I will make sure that there is plenty of wood for the fire place. Blankets are in the closet right outside the door and they are warm and woolen, so be careful how many you layer him with!"

Erestor nodded dumbly and he placed his face in his hands as he sat bent with thought. The man came and placed a hand on the Elf's shoulder and said in a kindly voice, "if you wish to talk after you have everything to your satisfaction I will talk with you. For I perceive that there is much you want to know."

Erestor jerked his head up and said, "that really would be helpful. Where shall I meet you?" he asked quietly as then lowered his head again and placed his chin in his hands that rested on his knees. He had never felt so flustered in his life. Nothing was in order and he was tired of fighting for everything that had come so easily to hm in Rivendell.

The man answered, "in the library. It is down the hall further and the fourth door on the right." Erestor nodded and looked at his booted feet. Ryxen looked at the sorrowful Elf for only a moment before he turned and left, shutting the door with a soft click behind him.

Once Erestor was sure the human was gone, he stood up and crossed the space between the bed and fireplace.

There was some dusty wood in the fireplace and he was sure he could get it to light eventually but he did not have to, for moments later he heard a knock and a little boy stood in the doorway. He grinned a toothy grin and said, "Master Elf I was told to bring you these hot coals so you could start yerself a fire."

Erestor smiled at the child and said, "thank you very much. I was beginning to wonder about that." He took the bucket that glowed with the hot embers and he also took possession of the iron tongs. The child smiled a wavering smile and then bowed clumsily and hurried away, leaving Erestor peering into the hall, wishing that Glorfindel would come back.

But that was fine! If Glorfindel wanted to go and get into trouble that was his affair. Erestor had a job to do and he would be damned if he would let Glorfindel's ill temper and needless guilt hinder him.

Going over to the fireplace, he placed the coals near the dust covered kindling that was still there and soon had a steady amount of smoke rising. A brief smile flashed across his face as a flame shot up and then other's followed, brightening the room and sending warmth into the air. The smell of the smoke was somewhat pleasant, he supposed and he went to look at Aragorn.

The man had near fearful expression on his face, lost in his darkest dreams. It pained the adviser to see his lord's son thus and he went out to grab the blankets from the closet quickly.

He felt strange as he walked out into the hall. Surprisingly without that blonde menace around he felt alone. He had no clue that he could trust and certainly no clue as to whether or not anyone had his back. The hall was eerily barren and the wooden floor creaked slightly.

Celebalda stopped short as he came near the palace. He found it disturbingly odd that he felt like eyes were glued to him and every move that he made was being watched with great stealth. Orcs never came this far and they hadn't had problems with Dark Elves in a good while. Or at least none really worth mentioning.

He scanned the trees briefly and then started forward, only to have an arrow fly past his ear and hit the tree nearest to his head with a twang and a jolt. He scowled and then said, "alright. Very cute! You just nearly killed me!" He looked at the arrow darkly, as though it might have just some how done this whole thing on it's own and then he rolled his eyes. "I am not in the mood today Thalionril! Damn it, show yourself!"

"My captain I hardly think that is befitting of one in such a high rank and in such high favor with his majesty to speak thus, especially with a friend. Wouldn't you agree?" came a teasing voice that Celebalda knew all too well. He looked up where the annoying voice was coming from and saw the slender Elf sitting in a tree directly above him and with a smirk that he felt would be far worth the effort it would take to wipe it off.

"What are you doing?" he asked in a thick whisper and he heard a chuckle in response. Rolling his eyes he said to himself, "oh Valar give me strength."

The younger Elf watched his superior's expression for a brief moment and then he chuckled again. "I was supposed to go and find you. I guess you found me. I am sorely disappointed."

"So am I," muttered the older Elf in a grumble. He then narrowed his eyes and raised his brows as he asked, "why are you?"

"It gets boring guarding a palace all day. I wanted a little adventure. Though since Legolas is not with you I will thoroughly enjoy the conversation with Thranduil that will follow this little escapade." He snorted and then steadied himself as he very nearly leaned back too far in his mirth. Celebalda's scowl remained unmoved and he proceeded to walk towards the palace gates, or at least the path that lead to them and Thalionril stopped his laughter and watched his captain walk away for some moment before he shouted out, "you could wait for me!"

"Captain!' snapped King Thranduil as he looked at the younger Elf that stood silently, looking at the floor tiling with a shamed or angered façade. At the moment he could not tell which and he was not going to try. His gray eyes locked on the Captain of all his guard and he said, "you had my permission to wait longer! Why did you not?" He stood before the other and Celebalda stared at his boots before speaking.

"I thought it necessary to inform you that I did not even see fires reflecting in the snow off in the distance. They aren't coming. I do believe that something is-" he was cut off as the king seethed.

"Wrong?" he finished. "No. Nothing is wrong. Nothing other than the fact that he deliberately ignored me as did with Captain Rothinzil!"

"My Lord," began to captain slowly as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Captain Rothinzil would never do that. And Elrond would never let them stay in Rivendell against your wishes. I believe them to be in trouble _again_. I ask your permission to get a contingent and go in search of them."

Thranduil sighed and sank into his thrown that sat upon a large and richly decorated dais. He muttered under his breath, "Legolas what have you gotten yourself into now?" He then said louder, "Celebalda, you have always been the best of the best of our guards and have trained others well. But I do not ask this of you. It is most likely that Legolas and Rothinzil got held up and are in Rivendell."

He did not want to think of their frozen blue corpses in the snow for the beasts of the field to feast on. He would rather think that they are alive and coming home on their own. But gut instinct told him that he was entirely wrong.

"You did not ask, my Lord. I offered," answered Celebalda, bowing before his lord in deep reverence. His eyelashes went downward as his eyes focused on the floor. He drew a deep breath and looked up as dead silence fell upon the halls.

Thranduil smiled and looked at the younger Elf. "True enough my faithful Captain and friend. You have more than earned my thanks already. I give you leave to go, but take only those who are willing." His gray eyes watched as Celebalda rose and stammered,

"You will not be disappointed my King." The Elf then turned to leave his liege and he began to walk swiftly out of the corridor and into the courts beyond the magic doors.

Thranduil watched him go and then placed his head into his hands. Elves around the halls watched their sovereign with great disturbance in their eyes as they sensed his deep pain and apprehension. They observed for only a moment and then conveniently found reasons to leave the halls and their liege to the gather feeling of a heavy weight.

Thalionril placed a hand on his friend's shoulder as Celebalda brushed past. "My Captain," he addressed the other calmly, "When might we be leaving?" He wrinkled his brow and watched as the older being stopped and parted his lips as though to speak and then went quiet.

He drew a deep breath and answered almost in a trance, "as soon as possible." He walked further letting his friend's hand slid from its place on his shoulder. Thalionril felt a shock go through him as though Celebalda had just turned cold as ice and he felt chilled.

"Then why," asked Thalionril, now very intrigued by his superior's strange behavior, "why this coldness and unrest?"

Celebalda asked over his shoulder as he walked on, "unrest?" he asked almost to himself. "No. Cautious thought? Yes." He stopped and turned completely around and grinned at Thalionril as the younger Elf caught up and stayed his steps at the head captain's side. "You have known me long enough to know that I am never caught unprepared."

Thalionril looked at his friend quizzically and then said, "I think you are this time." He grinned back but it faded with Celebalda's and he narrowed his eyes, "everything will be well." He tried to assure his superior.

"The best laid plans can go astray…I have no plans to have lead astray." The elder Elf seemed deeply disturbed by this and he continued in a dim mutter, "I wager the Anduin will be uncrossable." He felt a bit worried as well. He had not traveled out of Mirkwood since…the accident. He knew the world had changed…he had changed…Greenwood the Great had changed. His son had gone away and he did not feel him close anymore. There was so much left to do in Middle Earth and it seemed to him that hardly anyone was left to fight the evil and turmoil. Maybe he should go away from here soon, away from Middle Earth.

Thalionril watched as Celebalda shook his head to clear it of dark thoughts and the younger being said, "time is about changing…nothing ever stays the same." He looked at some leaves that were tiled on the floor, dead leaves, fallen leaves. "Everything fades in time, trees exchange their leaves in seasons so do we."

"We are going beyond the Anduin, Thalionril. That is a long way."

"I figured we were crossing the river when you said it was going to be uncrossable. You never quit," he teased gently and smiled as Celebalda rolled his eyes in annoyance. The older Elf cuffed the younger one gently and asked;

"Now who do you think is crazy enough to come along with us into the wild?"

Thalionril smiled a knowing smile as he narrowed his eyes and mischief danced across his face as he answered, "I can think of several."

**TBC………………… Review….PLEASE? Please? **_-give puppy eyes and quiver chin- _

**Oh yes! **_-does mad cackle-_ **the plot thickens (but still without a truly evil cliffie -**_sniff-_**). Rothinzil is still alive but not out of the woods yet. **

_-pair of authors smile evilly- _**There you go Aragorn fans! See, we can do ranger angst and be cruel about it, but we have to admit we are suckers for Elf pain so that explains why Legolas gets in trouble first. Unless of course you are the kind who thinks the reason Aragorn gets into trouble later is not because we planned it that way, but because when Legolas gets into trouble it is Aragorn's duty as his best friend to follow. **_-authors snigger insanely- _

**We have a new account on now under the same pennames we use here after Aroda invited us into it. We may post some new stories in it that won't be on , we don't know. You can check if you like on our bio, because if we put new stories on this new site, then we will put the link on our Bio page. But we won't have anything on there until Christmas or after**_ -sigh-_**School work is beginning to take a strong hold. LOL**

**Review Responses:) Thanks for giving us these! ((((((((( **_reviewers _

**Marie Delcore: **Mellon nin…..-_shake heads-_ you may actually want to read it first silly! But we still appreciate the review, since we talk to you everyday and you know most of what is going to happen. Why do we give things away? Not that we can't even make a cliffy for you. LOL

**Snow Glory:** No, our precious Rothinzil would never live that down. _–turns to Elf flushing pink-_ The poor thing! Yes, he is left for dead, but even as he dies he has ladies that love him. Like his angels! We won't let him die….yet….! Hmmm….its sounds like fun….ur….horrible to do something like that. We can't tell you exactly what is befalling that arrow slinging prince at the moment. But it is not good. Thanks for the cute review!

**Deana: **_Very _poor Legolas indeed! Thanks for the review.

**Nefhiriel: **Yes, you wrote that. Hehehehehehehehehehehe. Ahhhhhhhhh…another one for Rothinzil. Yes, he is a big sweet heart and he only gets sweeter with time. Awww….thanks…hmmm…you are an author. We thinks we must look at what you have written! But before we do that and post…. We want to say good luck baby sitting (even though you are probably through with it by now LOL) and thanks for the review!

**elitenschwein**Agh, that's a severe _understatement_. It is looking_ **horrible**_ for the Elves. So you like Roth too? Awwww…..how sweet…maybe we should let him live! Yes, who would share Legolas' troubles but Roth? You have some excellent points, but well……you'll see. Yes, Glorfindel always underestimates poor Erestor. But don't worry. Erestor gets to show his bravery eventually…..And the horses are safe! Thanks for the review.

**Snowy: **Sorry, the _mwahahahahaha_, gave it away this time oh wise one. But that is the first time evil fly swatters have ever threatened my existence. Hmmmmm…..last I heard they were meant for flies and insects NOT authors! To say this was an eye-opening review would be an understatement. Thanks….I think. LOL No, really, I know where you live; you can just call me on the phone silly head.


	14. Don't Close Your Mind

_**CHAPTER FOURTEEN **_

_Don't close your mind_

A dark Dúnadan? How was this possible?

Legolas did not know and he was still shaken by the answer. He just stared at Caranfëa dumbly and the other shook his head again. "It is true Legolas. He hates his race, but he hates Elves more and is not scared of inflicting pain to get his point across. Severely, if not discretely." Here the younger Elf touched the bruises on his cheeks lightly and said, "I would know."

Legolas felt numb. He was not thinking of himself, but for Aragorn. If that stubborn, incompetent, cursed ranger that he was closer to than many Elves he knew came for him….the thought made him want to shudder. Oh, yes, he knew that Aragorn was going to come for him. Why would the human not? He was alive, so why would he wait? He wouldn't and now he would be killed by this man who was more cunning than many Legolas had ever been pitted against. Calmir was cruel, but he was rather stupid and easily understood. He was greedy, as were many men the prince had encountered in his lifetime.

The was the first truly impressive one and he felt a shiver run down his back, but he did not shudder. "Strider…" he whispered into the darkness, hoping the very walls of this evil place did not possess ears.

"Who?" asked Caranfëa; genuinely confused. He had never heard that name and he looked at Legolas with a bewildered facade. "Should I know him?" He shifted and his manacles clinked rather loudly and the noise echoed off the walls, causing both the Elves to look around for a moment.

"He was born after your….capture…years after," answered Legolas softly. "He is a mortal and my closest friend nonetheless. He also is more than what he seems." The blonde being then looked at his chest as he felt a burning sensation and saw that his gash was healing whether well and felt better already. What he did not know whether he should be apprehensive or happy about was the clear poultice that seemed to coat it and was cold.

Caranfëa wrinkled his nose, "you would have a man for a friend?" he asked in a disgusted voice. "A weak mortal whose race most likely would have perished in the second age if it wasn't for us?" He snorted, "Legolas, my lord, that is the most fool hardy thing you have ever done. Does your father approve?" he asked with a bitter tone in his voice as he looked at Legolas.

The prince saw a deadly green flame smoldering slowly in the other's eye and that made him began to develop quite a temper of his own, a temper to be reckoned with. "He has saved my life numerous times!" spat Legolas angrily, letting the blue hot fire in his eye flare up into a sapphire glow. "Men are not all weak! He is stronger than you will ever know! Just because you did not get along well with them, do not blame it on he who was born long after your troubles even began!" He drew another deep breath and then seethed bitterly, "and it is none of your business whether my father approves or not! If I remember, you were not in such high favor with him before you left! And speaking of fathers, you never got along well with yours so I certainly do not need your advice!"

"Legolas, we could have sailed into the West and lived in peace forever. Never troubling with Middle Earth again!" argued Caranfëa angrily as his prince did not seem to get the whole picture and the frustration he was feeling began to grate on is nerves.

"And what would we have lived for? There is more to life than living forever!" snapped Legolas tenaciously as he narrowed his eyes into slits of blue rage towards the other Elf.

The green glow of Caranfëa's eyes increased to an astonishing brightness as he snarled malevolently, "Not if the humans will not listen to us and even try to understand what we have to tell and teach! They hate us Legolas. Why should we stay here when they hate us so?"

Legolas suddenly let his eyes soften as he recalled seeing young little boys in the town he had been held prisoner in before. But then he growled back rancorously, "have you ever seen a human child? How small and fragile they are? We are hear to keep evil away so that they can have a chance to set things right. An entire race should not be punished for the sin of a few!"

"The sins of a few, I agree, but the sins of many? Only a few are good and they have perished or been lost to the dark. We cannot place our trust in men anymore Legolas."

"Caranfëa, I feel sorry for you. You simply can't trust anyone, can you?" asked Legolas quietly as he watched the other Elf. He was not surprised to see the glow intensify and the other Elf growled,

"I don't need your pity. If anything, you need mine! To be friends with a human is asking to share their fate," he concluded darkly and then closed his eyes so the green glow shut out like a candle. Legolas heard the other muttering under his breath and he sighed.

" Caranfëa, you are the most dispassionate Elf I have ever had the curse of meeting!" Legolas spoke to the dark sharply. "It doesn't make it any easier for them to like us if they sense we despise them, though if they treat us horribly out of meanness they have more than earned it."

"You can't _ever _understand all that I have been through princling!" snapped the dark form from the corner of his cage-like cell.

Suddenly they heard footsteps and both of the Elves suddenly switched on their most alert senses to see who was coming back to them. A light wavered in one of the old mining passages to the right of Legolas and the prince glanced towards it. It was getting brighter and closer and its orange light reflected upon the walls. Caranfëa wrinkled his nose and growled, "he's back."

Legolas knew then who it was and a hard and stubborn look came into his eyes as he waited the human's approach.

The human set the torch into a holding place along the wall and then walked over to Legolas' cell. He was holding a blanket and some food. It looked like sort of oatmeal or porridge. But it smelled strange and Legolas felt dizzy just sniffing the stuff. It had to be drugged and if this man were a Dark Dúnadan he would know the perfect way to blend herbs to achieve the desired affect.

He looked at Legolas and watched as the Elf didn't even move, but sat stock still, watching him with a near bored look. The human smiled and drawing out a key, began to unlock the door. Legolas just rested his head on his chin, determined not to let this man get to him. However his eyes followed the Dark Ranger's every move and he asked, "why are you here?"

The man put on a face of mock hurt and said, "I have brought you food and blankets Elf." Legolas shifted his eyes away stubbornly.

His answer was completely the opposite of what the man had wanted. "No, thank you." The mortal smiled, because though it was not the answer he had wanted, it was the one he had more than expected.

The human stepped through the door to the cell and shut it with a clang behind him. Legolas didn't even look up. He just sighed. "I know you are hungry Elf," said the man carefully as he came to crouch by Legolas's side and he looked into the Elf's blue eyes. "We can be friends, you know. All you have to do is trust me and I will treat you well." He waited to see what this blonde being would do. Legolas did not even change his expression, unless perhaps he appeared to go colder. He tried a different approach, "You know my name, don't you Elf?"

"King," spat Legolas bitterly. He then stared at the man and met the human's gaze with unwavering eyes.

"Is it not only fair that I should know yours?" asked King in return. "I tire of calling you 'Elf'." He sighed and said, "I am sure you are weary of it as well." The man placed the bowl near Legolas and said, "go ahead and eat. I know you're hungry."

"Sorry, no," answered the prince with a malevolent tone. He was hungry…he was starving. But he was quite willing to starve right then and there rather than find himself poisoned with a mind-numbing drug and at their mercy or find himself ill from some kind of anodyne.

"All right, I will say this once before I am forced to do something to you that that you will not like: I am not asking you to eat. I am telling you to eat."

"No, it is drugged. I am not fool and can smell odd herbs easily enough." Legolas lifted his head now gazed at the human with narrowed eyes as he spoke this rather matter-of-factly. His eyes had a challenge written on them that plainly stated :I dare you to try and make me eat.

"You are trying my patience Elf'," hissed King malignantly as he came closer to the immortal. Trying to make the captive Elf get uncomfortable enough to do his bidding without anymore questioning. It was not working and he could not afford to bluff any longer. This Elf had to fear him, fear and respect him.

"That is your problem, not mine," asserted the prince coolly and with a slight snicker edging his voice, making it annoying to listen to and even more annoying if his comment was directed exclusively at you.

He stiffened suddenly as King reached out and grabbed his neck in a tight squeeze that Legolas found socking. But he pushed his tense fear down and a smirking smile played across his face as the man's grip tightened so tears nearly came unbidden to his widening eyes. But even as his eyes widened, he looked at peace and King felt the tension flee the Elf's body and knew that the immortal defied him still in the simple way of not showing the slightest regard of fear. "Elf, I want to be your friend, why do you force me to hurt you?"

Legolas croaked out a cancerous answer, "if you were my friend you would set me free and not keep me caged like an animal for the rest of my life." He felt his eyes bulging as his system pleaded for air, good air! But the man's grip only tightened and Legolas followed the human's other hand as it groped over to where the bowl of porridge lay and grasped the spoon, dabbing a mouthful of the food onto the tin piece.

Legolas tried to pull away, but the man's grip was too fierce and would hurt his neck if he pulled too much. His mouth was already open as his body tried desperately to drag in some oxygen. In came the corn mush and King said, "I am not going to let go until you swallow Elf."

Legolas writhed and felt horror sweeping over him as he felt his senses going numb from lack of oxygen filled blood. Finally, his involuntary response to swallow took over as his body said in no uncertain terms that it was not going to let it's owner's stupid and stubborn pride be it's death.

Legolas looked horrified and watched as King took another generous spoonful and placed it near his lips. The mortal had hardly loosened his grip more than enough to let Legolas get a breath in and now he tightened it again. Legolas glared lancets at the man before he tried once again to pull away. The grip intensified and the prince was forced to open his mouth (he was more than convinced that it was not voluntary on his part). His body had not recovered completely from being oxygen starved once and it was not ready to even consider a second incident.

Caranfëa looked on nervously. He was not going to make it harder for Legolas by contending with King. That would put them both in much more trouble. Besides, he knew that his friend was under no real threat to his life, just his pride. If King was beating him, that was one thing, but force feeding him? That was quite another thing, a harmless thing that was hardly worth the trouble he would get into for trying to break it up. And Legolas had to eat, whether he wished to or not, his body would shut down if he did not.

Legolas had taken in around seven spoonfuls (each quicker than the first) when he decided that he had had enough and could take no more. But he felt terribly sleepy and he could tell that the food had been drugged now more than ever. He was striving with all he had to work against the sedative but it was too strong and the desensitized sensation was over whelming.

He finally felt his eyes beginning to droop and knew that he had to draw the line here. Suddenly he jerked himself away and as he did he felt his shoulder's press on the wall and he felt his head loll to the side. As he began to fade into nothingness he asked through benumbed lips that created a sluggish speech, "what d-d-d-did you d-d-do to me?" He had spoken in the Gray Tongue, though he had hardly realized it. He was too somnolent to care.

"Nothing harmful, just calm down Elf. Now what is your name?" King asked lackadaisically as though he did not really care.

Legolas was not quite that drugged but he was close enough and he mumbled, "n-n-no." The he began to close his eyes and they fluttered as he tried to keep everything in focus and not fall into what he knew would be a deep sleep. But the question came again and he answered, "L-Legolas-s-s."

"Thank you," answered the Dark Dùnadan in the Elven Tongue as Legolas fell into a deep sleep. He carefully took and laid a blanket out onto the straw and then he shifted Legolas onto it and then covered him with another. Legolas did not even stir.

King then went over and saw Caranfëa sitting in his cell, watching and the man slipped quietly out of Legolas' cell and walked over to the short, redheaded Elf's. He was met with a fierce glare of defiance. "Is that his name?" he hissed at the smaller Elf through the iron bars. His narrowed his eyes and took out his key to unlock Caranfëa's prison door.

The Elf was silent for another moment and said, "I am going to tell you why?" He furrowed his red brows and said as though deep in thought but mockingly, "Oh, silly me! I forgot that I tell you everything. No secrets between friends."

King slammed the key into the lock and flung the door open. The short Elf in heavy chains merely inclined his head, "are you going to teach me another 'lesson' or am I too graduate into the black oblivion and to the Halls of Mandos from there?" The man rushed upon the short Elf, grabbing him by a lock of his red hair and yanking his head back, but all he received from the small being was a smile that was as cold as any February morning. "You wouldn't kill me. Without me, you wouldn't have a coin to your name."

"Wouldn't I?" asked the man as he pulled out his knife and placed it conveniently beneath the red-haired Elf's chin with his free hand that was not full of carmine/blonde hair. Caranfëa looked at the knife and his expression never changed. He just narrowed his eyes and shifted his weight that was placed painfully on one ankle beneath himself.

"Is that really Legolas?" he asked sternly and Caranfëa jerked in his grasp as he felt the knife press into the flawless skin of his neck.

"Why do you want to know?" he asked in a growl as he tried again to pull away from the knife that was coming all too close to his jugular vein for comfort. He had no doubt that King would kill him, quickly if he was lucky. But even though he did not get along with Legolas all the time did not mean that he was not the blonde Elf's friend. He was not going to betray anyone. People could say whatever else they liked about him, but he was not a traitor.

"Why is it in your best interest to tell me?" asked King as the shook the little Elf none too gently. He slid the knife into the sheath after withdrawing it from the red-haired Elf's throat. He then stood up, dragging Caranfëa up with him. He placed the Little Elf against the wall and held him there for a moment before slamming his fist into the immortal's stomach and causing the small being to double over in pain as far as the man's grasp would allow. He was struck again and he hissed as he was sure he felt a rib break…no it only creaked…this time.

Caranfëa used what strength was not being directed to catch his raspy breath to try and tear away from this man that was inflicting great pain upon his already battered and bruised sides and battle wounds he had. He pulled far enough away that he was out of reach of the fists, but he was hardly beyond the mortal's legs and King lashed out viciously and caught him in the collarbone, near the neck and the Elf coughed for a brief moment.

He then jumped up and fell over because of the manacles on his wrists that were far heavier than any that should be placed on one so small and the ones on his ankles got tangled and caught up about his feet being two sizes too big. They tipped him off balance and made it difficult for him to counter attack, which was the reason they had been placed on him in the first place. But he stumbled back up and as soon as he was up he felt a fist slam into his face and he was slammed against the wall by the force of the blow. "Is that Legolas?" asked King slowly and thickly as though Caranfëa was incredibly stupid.

Caranfëa hissed, "I am never going to tell you human!" He felt so angry that he thought for a second he was seeing red.

King could not afford to batter and bruise this Elf any more and there was more than one way to skin a cat after all. He said, "fine. Have it your way. You can starve until you see fit to tell me. And when you go down in the ring from weakness and emaciation don't expect me to keep you from becoming a meal for a beast." King brushed his tunic and cloak off from the scuffle and was out of the cell in two steps. He slammed and locked the door behind him and Caranfëa nursed his bleeding lip thoughtfully.

The Hell Fire of an Elf would much more eagerly starve than earn the name 'traitor' and he knew he could last long without food. Whether it was foolish or not, he would much rather do things the hard way than go the easy way. He seemed to find almost pleasure at taking the hard way around things. As he sucked on his bleeding lip, tasting the coppery taste and the salt he purposefully bit it, squeezing it with his teeth to draw more of the sanguine liquid out and taste his pain that had long been nurturing in the dark as he had brooded.

>>>>>>>>>

Elméra gently tipped Rothinzil's chin up as he lay on a pile of furs. She had managed to get him as far as an old storage room ravaged by dust and so she expected that it be hardly ever visited. It had been quite a challenge, but what was wrong with challenging one's self? She often took pleasure in it and now was no exception. A few candles were all that she had to see by and that was as much as she would risk anyhow.

The Elf's breathing was coming in short puffs and his eyes fluttered open and then would slide closed and flap open once more. She did not know what to do, and so taking some other furs, she gently wrapped them about his trembling body. As she sat by him, threading her needle that she always carried she felt ill with the thought of what she was going to have to do.

He was going to die if she did nothing and she knew she was going to have to pierce his skin and give him stitches across his wound. As she placed a slender hand over his brow she felt fever radiating from it even before it touched the burning skin. His cheeks were taking on a flushed pink look as the strong fever set in and as he opened his eyes she saw that the bright hazel color was clouded over by a feverish glaze of pain.

Deliriously he asked, "Am I finally in the West?" His voice quivered and the young women cautiously began to take the fur skin and her vermilion cloak from where they covered the Elf's torso. He shivered and she continued (though it made her stomach turn) to peel away the ensanguined tunic layers and pieces. It revealed the deep laceration and she looked away for a moment before gently as possible extricating the pieces of cloth that had been placed in the wound by her earlier to soak up blood.

He looked at her and licked his lips painfully as he felt his mouth going dry, "if it…frightens you…you don't have to look." He suddenly cringed and said slowly as pain lanced up his body, "it h-h-hurts."

She said in a soft voice with a quivering chin, "I have to give you stitches and I am afraid I have no herbs to give you for the pain my good Rothinzil." Her fingers ran along the thread and needle's length as she held them uneasily.

Rothinzil looked at it and said as hurriedly as he might, "that's n-n-not necessary." He suddenly coughed and she winced with him as she felt the wheeze in his voice.

"I am afraid it is or you will die." She felt tears come to the corners of her eyes and she nearly let them leak out as Rothinzil spoke again.

"Perhaps its…its better this way." He closed his eyes and she let one of her hands stray and rest on his sweat soaked chest as she whispered to him,

"No! Don't talk that way! Everything will be all right. I promise you!" She felt him clasp her hand and she took the thread and needle in one hand as he squeezed her other tightly and she pricked the needle gingerly through his skin's edge on the jagged cut and felt him grip her hand tighter.

Elméra put into two stitches and then felt him go limp and for a moment she feared he was dead. For his breath had left him before he went stock-still and his face had turned ghastly pale despite the fever. His hand unclenched and too all appearances life had left his body. But then she felt his heart, fluttering and struggling to beat. He wanted to live! He was trying to live!

Why she cared for this Elf was still utterly beyond her, but she did and as long as he was trying, even if he stopped trying, to live, she would try and pull him through. If she saved him, they could save each other.

Calmir had to die, he was insane and he had no heart. She wished her father was here, but it would not surprise her if Calmir had done something horrible to him. When Rothinzil got strong…he could help her put an end to her brother. But then again, she was not sure if she could kill him or have him killed. It would be her killing her own kin and she felt more than slightly awkward about that. Elves did not hold Kinslaying in high honor: they feared and despised it.

But why did it matter what the Elves thought? She shrugged mentally as she continued with her inner monologue (wondering why she had ever thought of the Elves opinion) and she tied the end of the stitches she could not help but recall Rothinzil's large hazel eyes and she found herself nearly swallowed up their deep depths. Taking another piece of her dress, she wiped the blood and other bodily fluids away from the wound's stitches.

Rothinzil was still out of it and she did not see the outcome of him waking up soon very probable. Now that she could breathe again, for it seemed as though she had been holding her breath the whole time, she shivered against the cold she had just realized was so very real. It was cold in this room and she must make a fire or it would be their deaths.

But there was nothing here that was combustible…or at least nothing they could afford to destroy. Then her eyes fell upon some old battered crates in a dusty corner. But she did not know if she had the strength the break the wood that had to be oak, otherwise it could not have lasted in these damp, dark and perfectly wretched conditions.

As Elméra got up and wondered over closer, she narrowed her eyes in the darkness and held aloft a candle she had picked up. The crate was covered with a thick layer of gray dust and she blew on it, sending the little pieces of dirt all about the room in a large powdery cloud. However when that settled she found that the wood looked old and fragile enough. She searched through her mind for the exact word…brittle…yes, that was a perfectly valid description. But it would burn quickly then. She would need more soon.

But this would have to do for now and sending a quick prayer up to the powers at be, she placed a slender hand on the wooden box and picked it up. It was surprisingly heavy and it was damp to the touch. They could not use this wood, for even if they get it to light, the smoke would kill them both. Wet wood always smoked more than dry as a rule of thumb and she was not blind to that understanding.

Quietly setting it back down again and shivering all the while, she mentally prepared herself to travel outside of this safe haven and search for the life force of firewood. She could only hope that Rothinzil would not wake and that she was not caught. If she was, she would die and Rothinzil would die. But this was not an option, so why even think of it as a extremely distant possibility? That was ridiculous and contradictory!

The women gave one last look at the inert Elf and then spun on her heels for the thick wooden door, stirring up a small cloud of dust. Then, pulling it open, she stepped outside and shut the wooden postern behind her. The first thing that hit her was the darkness. It was creepy, and it felt alive. That was an odd assertion to make, but she could not help but consider it. She felt as though it had eyes, but perhaps that was her fear speaking to her so vividly and in such a dark time.

She was not sure and she certainly did not have the time to think about that. She could only hope that Rothinzil would remain asleep until she got back. Stepping lightly out willingly into the darkness that shrouded the outside of the room she could smell the scent of the dust of the mines even stronger, but she was not afraid anymore. Elméra felt a strange and welcoming resolve growing inside her heart.

>>>>>>>>>>

Erestor sat across from Ryxen in a large and rather over stuffed chair. Both had a cup of tea in hand, however the raven-haired adviser's was hardly touched. He was too nervous to drink anything and feared he would bring it back up as soon as it touched his stomach. He eyed the green-amber liquid uneasily and listened as Ryxen summed up all that had transpired in the town before and since Legolas, Rothinzil's and Aragorn's disappearance. "So now they are missing?" asked the man thoughtfully as he eyed the dark-haired being across from him. Erestor said nothing.

"Well," continued the human, "You do not think that they joined up with the thieves do you?"

Erestor snapped his head up and said, "you had better speak a little more carefully Master Ryxen. My friends are NOT traitors. That much I know is certain, if nothing else here isn't!" The counselor's eyes had a dangerous gleam in them and Ryxen did not seem to deem it necessary to make it brighter by aggravating the subject further, therefore he said,

"very well. But what do you suppose has happened to them?"

"I am not certain, that is why we came here. We have Estel at least and if ever he lives through this he may know or may not. But I believe that they are still alive. We found no more bodies and I am more than sure that they did not want to keep the corpses," concluded the other somewhat crossly. Then he asked, "so the orcs are stirring up trouble again?" He watched as the man's face turned very grim.

"Yes. We do not rightly know why. Our town used to mine, but we haven't done that in nigh on at least twenty years. When we stopped mining, the trouble stopped….until recently." He came to his conclusion slowly as though it pained him in some strange way.

"Is it possible that some are continuing to mine or have returned to it?" asked the counselor somewhat crossly. He was beginning to wonder if he was being told everything. But he could not be sure and therefore did not press the issue too hard. He was going to wait until he was sure that his suspicion was rectified. Narrowing his eyes and creasing his brows, the Elf scrutinized the facade of the magistrate that sat opposite him.

Ryxen apparently felt uncomfortable, because he shifted his weight uneasily and said with what could be called 'extreme reluctance', "it is vaguely possible I suppose, but highly unlikely. Why would our men go to that mine? And I have not heard of anyone coming and disappearing save five or so. Strange men."

Erestor could have coughed in his surprise, but then again he had half expected this answer. "Five? Who were they? Do they live here?" he asked a bundle of questions all at once. If these men were too missing, it was most conceivable that his friends would be with them. As he sat there thinking of where the said friends could be, he began to wonder how he had been caught up into this utter mess after leaving Rivendell to deliver a simple message and come straight back. But he had been with Glorfindel and being with the said Glorfindel explained all of his troubles at the present. As he thought of the annoying Gondolin lord he began to wonder where exactly the warrior was. It had been around five hours and he had not returned.

"Master Elf, where you even listening?" asked Ryxen as he concluded the answers to the raven-haired counselor's abundant questions. He narrowed his eyes as Erestor seemed to pull himself out of space and settled his gaze upon the human with dropped jaw. But assessing the situation (which he found far from amusing) he straightened up and cleared his throat.

"I was merely thinking Master Ryxen and was slightly sidetracked. If you could please run over the answers one last time, I would be more than eternally grateful."

Ryxen just chuckled and said, "worried about that golden-haired friend of yours?"

"Yes-wait a minute! He is not my friend. A companion, yes, friend…no," stammered the Elf of Rivendell irately as he gave a snort of disgust. "Exactly the opposite actually."

"So you would worry for your enemy?" asked the man with an amused smile. He shook his head as he heard the Elf mutter under his breath many words, most likely Elven curses and Dwarvish curses.

"In this case especially," seethed the counselor as he concluded his rambling. "Now would you please answer my questions? For all I know, my friends could be dying or may even already be corpses! One of them lies dying in that room!" he snapped. "I regret to have to snap at you like this, but my patience is being drawn overly thin!"

"Settle down Elf. We are all in this together. " The man shifted again and said, "as for your first question, I know only there names and nothing more of _who_ they are. Calmir, Kushor and Calmir's father Castor and some others that were with them whose names are hidden from me. They came here some time ago, but they are always coming and going. They are. Or were horse traders. Now I (and the rest of the town) know that they are thieves. Calstor was murdered, that is what your friends were accused of to begin with and that is what tipped off this whole mess."

Erestor listened intently and then he scowled, "perhaps they are at the mine." His forehead wrinkled as he struggled for an answer that he was totally bereft of…for now. He needed Glorfindel…he could not do this alone and that was a fact that he was loathe to admit. That poor excuse for an Elf-lord did help at times, especially when you were in a strange town that was ready to willingly lynch any Elf that so much as looked at them wrong. For now they were protected…for now.

"I need to go and look for my companion. He could be in trouble," said Erestor hurriedly as he jumped up and nearly spilled his full tea mug and looked quickly at the door with his cloak hanging by it. "Look after Estel. I think that there is something that this poison is feeding off of. If you could search the wound in his shoulder, I would be very grateful," he finished as he went to the door and grabbed his cloak, swishing it across his thin shoulders and placing his trembling hand on the doorknob.

_He was going to choke, no, shoot Glorfindel with that miserable being's own bow! How could the pretentious Gondolin Elf even think of doing this to him? Oh! He was going to pay sooner of later, one way or another. _

"Wait! Lord Erestor! I shall send someone with you!" called Ryxen worriedly after the urgent Elf.

But the raven-haired Elf had already left and the great wooden door was left open with a sharp and cold winter wind that came from the mountains bustling through in icy gusts.

He could not even here the light footsteps of the fair being, who was walking as normal as a person would but with far surpassing skill.

Starring hard at the door as though everything could quite probably be its fault, the mortal got up slowly and shuffled towards the flapping door that was making more than a ruckus. He quickly poked his head outside to try and catch one last glimpse of dark-haired Elf, but Erestor was already gone. All that was left was the night and the vacant streets.

Figuring that the Elf would most likely be all right, the man shut the door with a shiver and wondered how they could be out on such a night.

Then, he went to go and check on the young and dying ranger that was in the back bedroom, in his deep coma like sleep.

Erestor paced the streets and drew his cloak tightly up around himself, with the hood hiding his face. He did not know how this town would react to him, but he was not going to risk anything if he did not have to. His dark hair concealed his ears where the hood blew back and he as grateful for that. His face was flushed with wind burn and he could feel the weather turning worse by the minute.

He could not wait to get his hands on that Gondolin Elf's scrawny little neck and wring it until the golden-haired rogue was blue in the face. Oh yes, that would be quite amusing, he chuckled inwardly with himself.

But he was getting more on edge by the minute and so when a hand came to rest on his shoulder he jerked and spun around with a scowl that would have sacred off any opponent save one.

The adviser starred straight into the face of Glorfindel and he snapped in a low and malevolent hiss, "what do you think you were doing you golden-haired rogue!" He stammered, "where have you been? Estel is dying, I hardly know what to do and you are…are smirking you…you…" he was becoming rather tongue-tied in his frustration and the 'golden-haired rogue' could not help but grin even further.

"Go on, this is interesting," said Glorfindel with a flash of a smile. Erestor's lips drew into a tight line and he narrowed his eyes and creased his brows so tightly that it looked as though he might explode or die from suffocation. "But on a far heavier note, I know Estel is fading. I have long been thinking about that. I have been under the window listening to everything said," he ended in a murmur that was fading.

"Ahhh.." said Erestor, "well that is somewhat comforting. But be careful, you might not have been alone."

Glorfindel looked at the counselor strangely and said ethereally, "we are never alone Erestor." He cleared his throat and said, "I would expect an Elf such as you to know that." He rocked back on his heels to get a look at the glaring counselor who sighed and snorted out his breath as he looked at his boots.

_Calm down, _he told himself slowly between deep breaths. _One…two…three…four…five…six…seven…eight…nine...ten. Glorfindel you are going to be dead! You are mine-one…two…three…four…five…six…seven...eight…nine…ten…counting is worthless! _"Glorfindel if we survive this just wait until we are back in Rivendell and I rally up a lynching party!" barked the adviser as he began to stomp towards the house of the Lord Ryxen in a manner that hardly befitted an Elf-lord and so Glorfindel had to chuckle.

"I suppose you have finally decided not to save the dignity you _think_ you possess?" he asked as he inclined his head to look at his piqued companion.

Erestor did not even slow his stride; he did not turn around. The dark-haired Elf just rolled his eyes and continued walking. He did not have time for this and eventually Glorfindel had to give up.

Glorfindel just shook his head and walked slowly behind his companion. It was his fault that Estel was dying. He wished that he could take the ranger's place. Oh yes, he dearly wished that and if he could make it happen, he would. Oh yes, he would. He pulled his cloak tighter about himself and watched hesitantly on the steps as Erestor opened the door to the house and stepped inside carefully.

The Balrog slayer was not if he wanted to go in there. He did not want to see Estel's cold and forlorn face. It only made his pain grow deeper and more lethal seemingly to his soul. He would rather die a thousand deaths than face his lord's dead son and face his lord's pain and horror. He did not care how each death would be, just so long as he died if it saved Aragorn from death before his time. He would surrender his body to the flames a second time if he had to.

He also was grieving for Legolas and Aragorn. He knew that Erestor was too, but the counselor, as usual, refused to show his true emotions. He considered it a weakness or something.

He did not seem to realize that the door had shut until he noticed that all was dark about him and he seemed to be lost. He saw light, but felt as though he could not move to get to it. Slowly, he placed his foot gingerly forward and then set his hand upon the door knob and pushed the door open.

The warmth that struck his features felt good compared to the cold that had benumbed them and he stood there a moment, blinking in the light of the great fireplace. But he saw that Erestor and Lord Ryxen…or whatever his name was…were no where around. They had to be back with Estel, for he heard voices and he followed them up the dim hallway.

The floor boards creaked, but he paid them no mind. Beneath a door, he saw light and he went for it.

Inside he saw the lord Ryxen hunched over Aragorn and Erestor looking mortified and actually scared. "Certainly we an extract it?" he asked in a quick and sharp breath. His eyes were large and he went over to where Ryxen had unwound the bandages to the wound on the ranger's arm. An arrow was embedded beneath the skin and it looked wicked. A strange color of blackish-red was forming around the wound, side-effect of the venom.

Erestor narrowed his eyes and scrutinized the wound, "I….you…can take that out?" he repeated his question quietly as he saw how the arrow head was deep in the flesh and most likely could tear some important tendons if it were not taken out properly. He felt his heart leaping up into his throat and he stared with wide eyes at the magistrate, who shook his head.

"I do not know. I have never tried to heal anything this extensive. As a matter of fact, I have never truly healed a real wound. I know of some good healers in the town and we might be able to fetch them, but it would take longer and I do not think this…"

"Can wait," finished Erestor with a sigh of great ardent adversity. "I have never really tried to heal anyone before myself. I have never really left the refuge of Imladris," he asserted somewhat quickly.

"Ahhhhh….but they say the Elves of Rivendell are of the greatest healers," spoke Ryxen with a dream like sigh as he thought of the fair sanctuary that he had only heard of. He looked at Erestor and the Elf smiled coldly as he shook his head in turn.

"Some, but not I. I am an adviser, no more. This is far beyond any experience I have ever had." He looked at the red-black tinted wound and the arrowhead he saw buried deep inside the irritated flesh. He felt his own shoulder screaming in sympathy. Shivering, the counselor wished he had never left Rivendell. Now he knew why Glorfindel got into trouble so easily, it was everywhere and unavoidable. Of course he still believed that the golden-haired warrior could easily find trouble in the safest place in the world. Oh, he would most likely find trouble of one sort or another in the West.

Both man and Elf alike spun around as a voice spoke up, "I will do what I may."

They stared into the determination that shown in the Balrog -Slayer's bright blue eyes. Glorfindel's face was so dark and serious that it made Erestor's jaw drop in shock. The other Elf's mouth was in a tight and worried line and his golden brows made a crease between them as they rumpled with displeasure and grave concern. His hair was wind blown about his shoulders and entangled in his hood that he had let fall off.

Ryxen looked at Glorfindel and then said, "so are you another adviser or a healer?" He did not know much of Elves, he could speak their language and knew some of their history but other than that they were still very mysterious. But he sensed that this one was neither healer, nor counselor, though he was most likely capable of both. He also sensed that this one was older than this Erestor Elf.

"I am neither, I am a warrior. However I know some healing," responded Glorfindel as he pressed in closer and gently brushed Erestor aside and gazed thoughtfully down on Aragorn's soon-to-be-fatal wound. It was a wicked thing and it glowed with an evil.

"I take my leave," said the Lord Ryxen as he stepped back and observed the two Elves before saying, "the herbs are all in the cabinet above where the extra blankets are. I will get you some hot water and rags as soon as I may."

Glorfindel slid his cloak from his shoulders and let it fall to the floor as he side stepped Erestor who had shifted over to get a look at the wound once more. The golden-Elf gingerly, almost as though he was afraid to touch the shoulder, picked the shreds of tunic and bandage that were soaked with Aragorn's red blood away.

He looked at his fingertips and found them ensanguined in the young man's life's blood. It made him feel sick and he was glad Legolas was not here. The young prince would be out of his mind with intense worry and would most likely only serve to make matters worse.

Trying to ignore the crimson liquid, his regret, he sensitively probed the wound, feeling for how deep the projectile's jagged tip was secured in the man's flesh, seeping it's mortal potion into the ranger's system.

More fresh and astringent smelling blood oozed onto the Elf's hands and he tried to resist the want to jerk away.

His face went very grave and took on a pale color as he realized just how dangerous this wound was in terms of getting the arrow out. It was deep and as far as he could tell the edges were jagged and would rip the flesh even more. If the pushed it through, they could break the ranger's collarbone. He did not know much about the venom, but he knew that it was giving them very little time and soon they would run out.

He looked at Erestor and said, "there really isn't much that we can do." He sighed and watched as Aragorn's face seemed to writhe in intense pain and dark dreams that one could never even roughly imagine. It hurt his heart, it stabbed and punctured it with many bitter wounds. How could this have happened?

Erestor just looked at Glorfindel and said thickly as he tried to keep his emotions under complete control and was failing miserably, "Lord Glorfindel, I have never asked anything of you really. But I am begging now that you try and do something. I …..well I can't, alright? This surpasses my expertise by much and reading a passel of books can hardly prepare one for the real thing."

He sighed na d began to pace the room as he spoke, "we already have no antidote and that is horrible enough, but what makes it worst is there isn't one to go and find. If he does not wake from it himself he dies. If we do not get the arrow head out and it continues to …."

"Supply the poison," finished Glorfindel for adviser that was glaring at the ranger as though the human had planned for all this to happen. "Yes, I know. But….never mind."

He did not want to admit that his was totally out of his control and that this was something he could not fight for his friends. He could only be there for them. It was frustrating and what was worse was not knowing what had become of Legolas and Rothinzil and not knowing the future.

He drew his fingers away from the wound and looked at the blood all about the ranger's shoulder and tunic and the ruby fluid that was fairly dripping from his fingers.

Suddenly he said with a such a fierce determination that Erestor nearly jumped, "Legolas need him, Elrond needs him, I need him and I am going to take that arrowhead out!"

He looked at Erestor and the counselor said, "I will go and find that man and see if he can't go any faster about getting that water!"

Erestor left quickly and now a desire that was hot and unquenchable, save by victory, was burning in each of the Elves hearts to extract that projectile tip and bring the young mortal back to life.

It was only moments, though it seemed like hours when Erestor returned holding a large bowl of hot water and some older towel's draped over on arm, swinging with his long strides.

Glorfindel was sitting by Aragorn, feeling the man's cheeks and forehead for fever, which he was unlucky enough to detect one…a severe one. The ranger was burning up. He could feel the life draining from the human and it was frightening, even for an Elf that actually understood death.

Erestor set the bowl on the nightstand and Glorfindel got up and shook his head, "try and get some cold water Lord Erestor. He is practically on fire with fever…see how his waxen cheeks are becoming flushed?" The counselor did not argue and left quickly once more. But he was going to have to talk to Glorfindel later when the situation was less consequential, about the warrior bossing him around.

The fact that Estel had a temperature mean that his body was fighting for life and had not simply given up, so Glorfindel believed that Aragorn's spirit was still fighting to remain in Middle Earth.

Taking one of the towels, the yellow-haired Elf dipped it into the hot water that had steam curling from the top in transparent wisps. Then, he touched the hot cloth to the wound. He watched as it soaked up blood, revealing the red-black tinted skin beneath. As he wiped more of the blood away he saw that indeed the wound was very ugly and extensive as far as wounds went…and it all came from a simple arrow.

He continued to wipe until the laceration was all clean of old clotted and dried blood, then he set the cloth down on the nightstand again. He was not how he was going to do this, but it had to be done. He set his teeth and jaw, then he stuck his fingers into the mottled wound and probed for the arrowhead.

He found it, quickly and he winced as he felt the splintered wood from the shaft. They would be lucky if they did not have to extirpate some of that as well afterwards.

Holding it tightly, he began to pull on the arrow shaft stub that was left and found that it was soundly lodged. He grunted to himself and began to wiggle the tip back and forth. It had to come out and if not he did not know what they were going to do.

It was a disgusting process and blood began to rush hot and sickening all about the shoulder and Glorfindel's hands. It seeped into the pillow and blankets. The smell of the blood of his friend made Glorfindel begin to feel a bit queasy and he felt as though the horrible wound was still gripping Aragorn 'by the throat'.

Suddenly he heard an unpalatable pop and the arrow head came free. But he was not prepared for the amount of blood that would follow and he quickly grabbed the dry towel and placed it over the wound, applying as much pressure as he dared with the ranger's condition. Luckily it was enough to block the wound and contain the massive amounts of blood.

He held the point aloft with one hand and saw the edges serrated, sharp and menacing. He knew exactly who had created this sort of arrow, this sort of torment. It was one who knew that Aragorn had wanted to save Legolas and knew that the bitter irony of knowing where and how to save the prince but being unable to would be just as lethal as the venom itself. The thought made Glorfindel shiver and he looked at the door-frame as Erestor stood there with another rag, limp with the dampness of cool water.

Erestor nearly ran over to the inert form of Aragorn lying on the bed and shoved Glorfindel aside, "he is going to bleed to death now oh wise one!" snapped the counselor bitterly. He placed the cool rag over Aragorn's head and felt the ranger's cheeks. If anything they had gotten hotter.

The raven-haired adviser applied a fair amount of pressure to the wound in an attempt to stay the blood flow. Glorfindel looked disdainfully at the arrow point and he sank wearily into a wooden chair, letting a heavy sigh escape his lips. He was shaking and Erestor looked at the golden-haired being with precarious eyes as he asked, "Glorfindel, are you well?"

The other looked at Erestor with a frown and said, "I am fine. Just a bit weary and a bit shaken." He looked at Aragorn and whispered, "it is he who I worry about. Not myself."

Erestor kept one hand on the cloth and with the other he reached towards Glorfindel and asked, "may I see the arrowhead?" Glorfindel placed it numbly in the outstretched hand before shaking his head and rubbing the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb unconsciously. Blood got onto his fair face. But he was too weary to care.

Erestor eyed it and shivered before dropping it to the floor, where it made a dull thud as it hit the wood. "It is evil and by evil it was made." He closed his eyes and knitted his brows then opened them and said, "no man made that." It was too cleverly evil…too sinister. Man might have helped, but he did not complete it. The counselor opened his eyes and looked at Aragorn with much sorrow in his deep eyes. He doubted that there were many Elves that could live through that unless they were purpose driven or there was some sort of divine intervention from the Valar. Aragorn might very well die.

"What chance does he have?" the Elf of Rivendell asked out loud and Glorfindel's face went a shade paler.

"When shall you return?" asked a soft voice into Thalionril's chest as he stood beneath _the_ large oak tree with the one dearest to him. The Elf-maiden snuggled closer to her beloved and rubbed her nose into his tunic.

Thalionril smiled and set his chin on top of the crown of her silver-haired head. He mumbled, "not later than two and a half weeks I should think." He hugged her close and she gave a giggle as he rubbed one of her ear points with his finger gently.

"Thalionril, what if it is longer?" she asked as she pushed away enough that she could gave into his gray eyes with her bright blue ones that were the color of a robin's egg. She knitted her brows and asked, "what if you don't come back?" She shivered and he smiled even broader before answering.

"Of course I shall come back and then we shall be married." Thalionril ran his fingers through her hair and he sighed as he watched the strands of sliver fall down to grace her slim shoulders. She was truly beautiful. "Aredhel, have I ever told you how beautiful the moonlight, all shades of light, reveal you to be?"

She laughed and said, "everyday, but remind me again." She took his dark hair in her hands and felt it lovingly.

"Very well," said Thalionril, "you are like the Lady Galadriel's mirror shimmering beneath the stars…like everything with light…but better. You give the stars a good challenge." He then looked into her eyes and she looked at him in a brief moment of uncertainty. But then he placed his lips over hers and she was lost in peaceful dreams. She felt magical and for a brief moment all of her deepest and most horrible fears melted away into one pleasant haze of nothingness.

He pulled away and she whispered breathlessly, "I am afraid I did not catch that last part. Could you tell me again?"

He smiled and hugged her so close that he nearly picked her up off the ground and placed his lips over hers once more.

Between kisses she told him a breathless murmurs, "if you did not return…at least I know…that you love me." He touched his nose to hers and said;

"Your father is a wise captain. He will see us all through."

She placed her ear over his heart and murmured, "I know." Her hand strayed to her right wrist where she slid a delicate silver bracelet from her slim hand. It was thin and on it were small silver flowers. It seemed to glow and grabbing Thalionril's hand, she managed to get it over his broader wrist. She whispered, "I want you to know that I love the way your eyes light up when you laugh Thalionril and I am going to miss you so much while you are gone. This bracelet is a piece of home for you. So you can always look back, even if you lay dying in the dark and remember me."

He fingered the ornament carefully and wrinkled his brow in thought for a brief moment. _Even if you lay dying in the dark…_was he going to die?

He did not know and he looked at her with soft and innocent eyes as she fell into his arms again. Then Thaiolril grasped her hand and said, "let us go up into the tree and gaze at the stars. You shan't fall out while I have you."

So together they climbed into the tree and she leaned against him and twirled his dark hair in her fingers before falling asleep listening to the wind in the tree boughs and his heart beat.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Celebalda looked at the small contingent of Elves that he had chosen with scrutinizing eyes; Thalionril and four others. He looked at Thalionril's sloppy sort of grin that was aimed at nothing and the cloudy-dream look in his eyes and chuckled.

Calling the younger Elf aside, he walked a few feet away with him and asked in a low whisper that only an Elf right by him could him hear, "did you give your last farewells to Aredhel then?"

Thalionril went red to the points on his ears and he nodded before stammering as though stricken with a numb tongue, "yes…yes, sir." He looked at the forest floor and muttered something else under his breath and Celebalda rocked back onto his heels before chuckling again.

"You are more than worthy of my daughter, Thalionril. I would have it no other way." He smiled and added, "unless of course you hit me with one of your wild arrows."

Thalionril smiled swiftly in a flash and said, "thank you my Captain." He began to turn red again, or perhaps the scarlet tone to his face had never really faded.

Both went back and Thalionril fell in with his companions as Celebalda spoke, "this is not going to be very threatening mission, but it shall be dangerous all the same. We are going to have to cross the Anduin in search of his majesty Prince Legolas and Captain Rothinzil who are missing…again," he added with a grimace.

Celebalda watched his Elves for a moment and then he shook his head mentally. They were definitely not his best trained soldiers, save for Thalionril. The others were excellent fighters, yes, but they were not the best and he hoped that they did not come in contact with something that would take much fighting to get around.

As he looked at the trees he began to wonder if this winter would pass and the trees would turn to a bright green ever again. It was getting harder for them to turn back to their perfect color each year and if Legolas, their prince, did not return, they would fade as well and so would Thranduil.

**TBC………..**

**Thalionril and Aredhel sitting in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G! First comes love…then comes marriage… then comes Aredhel with a baby carriage. Well, not in this fic and remember we don't write slash. The farthest we go is kissing. **

**Review please? **

**Sorry, no time for review responses, School and all that. But thank you to Snow Glory, Marie Declore, Deana, and elitenschwein. **


	15. I don't Want To Go

_**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**_

_I Don't Want to Go _

Legolas woke slowly and he shifted as he felt the warm blankets over him. Closing his eyes again, he pulled them closer about himself and thinking that he was safe at home he said in a mumble, "it is still dark…too early to get up." He covered his head in the soft material and then he felt the aroma of straw and he heard water dripping from dank walls. It was then he knew where he was and he poked his head out from beneath the blanket and peered into the dim light.

He felt dizzy, but strangely stronger and revived...if that was possible. He felt as though he was healing faster. He muttered to himself as he sat up and let the blankets fall from abut him, "ouch. What time is it?" He rubbed his eyes and shivering, pulled the blanket back on and curled his knees up to his chin before resting his head on them gently.

A glowering voice from the corner in a separate cell answered, "the afternoon of the next day if you really want to know." Caranfëa was far from even what could be called a 'relatively good mood'. He snorted and said, "you have been asleep all night and until what had to be around one! I thought you had gone into a coma!"

"Glad to know you cared so much Caranfëa," answered Legolas a bit sarcastically. He coughed and then felt pain in his leg as he tried to move the stiff and incompliant limb. He moaned and looking at the wound was relieved to see that it seemed to be healing rather abruptly. But at the same time it was a bit frightening.

He looked at Caranfëa through the dim light that they had, that, as he looked about noticed it came from a torch in the wall not too far away. The red-haired little Elf was not moving and Legolas saw that his lip was swollen and his breathing was a bit off. What had befallen his friend? He asked in a whisper, " Caranfëa?"

"Legolas, I don't want to talk now, alright?" he snapped and glared in the darkness.

Legolas rolled his eyes and said intellectively, _fine with me. _He shifted and wondered grumpily if he had been forgotten about by King. Not that he would have minded in the least, but he wished that he had been set free first. But all in due time, all in due time, he told himself.

He was not frightened anymore, at least not now. But he did feel the great sensation of anger that was about to erupt and he scowled at his wound nebulously. If not for that wound he could be free. Or perhaps not. If it weren't for this painful, aggravating, menace of a wound he would be fighting for his life in that cursed pit and trying to think of anything BUT killing himself to escape the horror of having to kill someone or something innocent.

He was actually _grateful _for this wound now, if that was possible. Since he had nothing better to do than make up his own rules at the moment he decided that it was possible. He then began to think of what other rules he could make up for himself and for others to follow once he got out.

Unable to think of anything new, the Elf leaned back against the bars and sighed with monotony moreover with anxiety of what he did not know of. He wished Aragorn were here. Caranfëa was someone to talk to, if he would hold a civil conversation. But that was obviously not an option right now and all Legolas could guess from his companion's uneven breathing was that he had suffered something horrible quite recently.

But he knew the little red-head well enough to know that to try and feel sorry for the Elf….to console him in anyway… made him angrier and in even more misery. Caranfëa was self-efficient and when others tried to comfort him he thought of it as them telling him that he was weak and not good enough. Which was far from true. He was a very strong spirited Elf, consequently that was his name. His father, Celebalda, had named him well.

Legolas was not about to open that jar of fish bait and he decided that right now since there seemed to be nobody to help him, he had better start being self-sufficient too. As much as he wanted someone to cry one, there was no one there and he was alone. He did not like to face that, but it was true.

Caranfëa was a companion, but not a true friend.

It was then Legolas realized that the cold was getting worse and he began to shiver slightly. He pulled the blanket tighter about his now fast becoming sketchy frame and muttered to himself, "I wonder where Rothinzil is. I hope he is alive and well." He looked at his breath that came in steamy puffs against the cold air of the mine and winter.

Caranfëa's rough and yet Elven musical voice answered, "Rothinzil? I recall him, he came back with you a few days before I left. I honestly didn't think that he would manage to pull himself through."

Legolas stiffened and asked in a barbed tone of voice that was guarded, "why not?" He felt obligated to defend his absent friend and he had nothing better to do anyway, but that was not hte point. The blonde Elf narrowed his blue eyes and glared duskily at the little Elf through the darkness.

Caranfëa snorted and said askance, "because he was so mixed up when you found him he could hardly shoot a bow straight. Not only that; he was so weak and thin I thought he would die even if he was mentally stable." Caranfëa's tone was one of scorn and he asked, "so tell me. Do his arrows fly now?"

Legolas snapped angrily and with a choked voice that came from his own emotions trying to throttle him, "You! He is my best friend and he is more than sane for your information!" Then the prince's tone got even darker as he felt a red haze about to flood over his eyes. "You are worse off than he right now! How dare you even try to conjecture that he is emotionally unstable! He is healed remarkably well and I would trust him with my life or risk all to save his!" Legolas felt his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

Caranfëa had a horrible habit, mused the prince angrily as his felt his jaw clamp, of making him angry at the most ill-omened times. He was always unable to strangle the other and it was a penchant that was beginning to grate strongly upon his nerves. But, he thought grimly to himself, he was sure that Caranfëa knew that with all certainty, either that or he just didn't care when he made his prince angry and happened to always be lucky. But the subsequent was least likely.

He sighed as Caranfëa responded thickly, "well I beg your pardon Prince Legolas!" The little Elf's chains rattled angrily as he began to shift his position in his frustration and total displeasure. "I was only held captive and tortured ceaselessly all these cursed years 'underground'! You are going to have to forgive my unfamiliarity of current events!" He heard the other grunt and finish, "but if Rothinzil isn't dead already, then he shall be soon. Calmir will make sure that he is stone-cold dead."

"Caranfëa!" the name was filled with agitation towards the addressed, "have you never listened to your father's teachings that you need to learn the value of incarcerating your mouth while you are ahead?"

The two might have gone further into the argument, but a door flung open and both jerked their heads up; startled.

King stood in the doorway. His large frame standing out and framed by the light. "Legolas!" he greeted the blonde prince with a false grin of happiness and a smile in his voice. "Prince Legolas, is it not?"

Legolas could have been knocked over with a feather and he stammered, "how do…"before he caught himself and shut his jaw with a tight snap. He was not going to give the man the satisfaction of knowing that he had no recollection of anything from the past two days. He followed the man with his eyes and wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"I know your name?" finished the man with an insane grin that made Legolas believe a frog or perhaps a crazed warg was back in this Dark Dúnadan's history. Though that was a slur on Aragorn's part, chuckled the Elf inwardly. The human shook his head, "but you told me yourself. I thought we were actually beginning to get along my liege," he said mockingly as he inclined his head to look at the now perfectly serene Elf.

"Never." Legolas' tone was flat. He was not about to use any tone that could possibly be used by the man to feed off of and grow more annoyingly by the minute.

The Dark man leaned against the bars casually and looked in on the immortal as he crossed his arms. "Have a nice sleep I suppose?" he mused.

Legolas said nothing and then he looked at the floor. He was beginning to wonder if something had not been done to him while he had slept. The man continued and ignored the blonde being's bothersome silence. "Are you hungry my prince?" he asked with a smirk as he produced an apple from his pocket that he must have gotten from the winter store, which would keep well in this cold weather. He tossed it around in his hands a moment before looking to see of the captive's expression had changed.

If he was looking to see the Elf's mouth watering he was sorely disappointed. Legolas did not look like he cared for anything that would be considered edible. As a matter of fact the thought turned the Elf's stomach upside down, sending it for a loop.

"Legolas, I honestly am only looking out for your well being. Where would I be without your kind?" he asked in a hurt voice as he noticed the Elf would not even look up at him.

"Then you would let me go home, to where my people need me." He looked daggers and said, "also, I know who you are and I know that you know all about me and my kind. If you are looking for my well being, then why do you keep me where my heart pleads to be set free?"

The man raised his brows in mock surprise and then said smoothly, "oh my lord?" He tossed the apple from hand to hand again. "Legolas you wound me. Are my accommodations not better than many meant for your kind here?" He smiled, "have I harmed you once? Not a single hair on your head have I hurt though you have continuously refused to respect me for my kindness."

"Kindness?" scoffed the Elf bitterly. "Being kept in a cage and forced to fight like an animal a _kindness_? Nay Dark Dúnadan, it is an evil."

Caranfëa looked at Legolas before he looked away swiftly once more. He was not about to interfere in anyway. He was already being starved into submission (which would never work) and he did not need a beating or worse on top of that. He may have been stubborn but he was not stupid, whatever others may believe or think.

King just drew back his lips in a cold smile, "Legolas, my little princling, you have much to learn about evil." He then saw Caranfëa eyeing him darkly from the corner of his cage and he said as he took a bite from the apple, "hungry little one?" Caranfëa turned up his nose and the man laughed shortly and then he produced the key to the blonde being's prison from his pocket and opened the door to let himself in.

"It would be a shame to see such a strong and smart Elf wither away," he said thoughtfully as he crouched down to the golden-haired immortal's level looked into the deep blue orbs possessed with a smoldering rage. He then saw that as the fair-haired immortal slid a little further away he used his injured limb. The man reached a hand out and grasped the ankle, pulling the leg gently and yet firmly straight. "It is healing well. Soon you will be put to the test."

Legolas pulled the limb back and then the Dark Dúnadan frowned thoughtfully. "I am actually beginning to become rather fond of you Elf. You do not annoy me as does my other pet over there." He gestured towards the red-headed Caranfëa who was facing the other way, though he heard every word. "I might actually choose to set you free in time."

"You would never do that, do not play with me."

"That leg is just not healing fast enough. But I can fix that easily enough," he added and stood up, brushing his knees off. He chose to ignore that the Elf had dared to call him a liar. He did not want to hate this Elf and so he was going to put it off as long as possible.

He walked out quickly and Caranfëa turned and looked at his liege before saying, "whatever happens, do exactly as he says or you may find yourself to be an Elf-dinner on the go."

Legolas wrinkled his forehead and his eyes formed into slits as he asked, "pardon?"

"He is going to give you the 'warg-treatment'. Just don't struggle or you may turn out with your leg missing."

Legolas felt his throat constrict a little before he asked, "and that is…"

"Animals have the ability to heal wounds faster, they have to, to survive, hence why they lick themselves when they are wounded. If they did not they would surely die of infection and just plain weakness." Caranfëa felt himself going ill recalling the last 'treatment' he had received roughly four years ago. He had come to the conclussion twice over, that he did not wear slobber well.

This was an obvious answer, but not the least bit comforting. When wargs tasted blood, they went mad.

He did not have much time to wonder as he heard voices and heavy panting and three men appeared. Two were holding a warg between them. It was a she-warg and was lunging at her chain trying to get away, but when she saw Legolas she stopped and sniffed. If wargs could smile, Legolas was more than assured that this one would be grinning from one rough ear to the next.

King reentered the fair-haired being's cell and in his hand he had a single manacle attached to a peg by a heavy chain. He reached for Legolas' foot but the prince withdrew it quickly. The Dark Dúnadan just rolled his eyes and grasped it tightly as he slipped the metal fetter on it and locked it. He then pulled until the prince's leg was taught and he placed a stalwart knee on the shin and held the limb firmly, if not painfully, in place. Legolas did not waste his energy struggling against his strength.

Legolas watched as the man proceeded to pound the peg into the earth and when he removed his knee Legolas felt pain run up his own for a few moments. But that was least of his concern. He could not pull his leg back. It was outstretched and left for this creature to have its way with.

He then motioned for the men to let the warg come and they brought her over to where the prince was chained. She sniffed the Elf over and when she saw the maimed leg she placed a paw on the kneecap and her nails bit slightly into his flesh. Legolas wanted to shiver and he felt his eyes growing wide as he looked at her and all her bulk.

She was making an odd noise that was a cross between a purr and a growl as her eyes looked over the wound. Then her tongue came out and licked the blood-covered wound. Legolas felt the rough tongue run over his wound and finally he did tremble and the warg licked her lips as she tasted the Elf's sweet blood.

It was luscious to her and she continued to lick the wound with an intense passion. Legolas tried not to be repulsed, but it was unavoidable. He shivered and watched with large eyes as her massive and abrasive tongue went in and out in a rhythm. Pushing aside the tear in his legging and more or less savoring his blood.

He watched as his wound seemed less unhealthy and already seemed to regain a hale color. But he also noticed that his blood was running out that had coated the outside and the she-warg was beginning to eye the rest of him. He knew what Caranfëa had meant by no struggling. Any sudden move now could be entirely fatal.

He suddenly tried to jerk away anyway as she finished and she dug in her claws. King said, "don't move Elf, unless you want to lose your head." He even looked nervous. That was one thing that Legolas did savor right then was the fact that King was uncomfortable and a bit leery.

The warg then noticed the laceration the prince's chest, sustained from Calmir in his madness. She seemed to smile after licking all the blood from the prince's leg and she placed her nose against his chest that was rising and falling fearfully. Her tongue fell upon this wound as well and would come up to the immortal's throat and Legolas was certain she knew that from his jugular she could get all the precious blood she wanted. She was nearly finished with the cut and Legolas felt a cold fear clutching at him with cold tendril like fingers as he realized she still wanted more.

Suddenly the prince saw the men tighten their grip on the chain and just as they did, the warg-lunged for Legolas' throat. She missed narrowly and they pulled her out of the prison to lock her back into whatever dark whole she had come from. Legolas just watched as King strode in and looked at his wound before tsking to himself, "it still is an ugly thing." But he had to admit, it looked a sight better.

He dug the peg out and then he undid the manacle on the prince's foot. Legolas withdrew his leg slowly as it now felt stiff and the man smiled, "soon you will be ready to fight, my dear Elf."

As he left Legolas's cell he looked at Caranfëa and asked in a parent to son sort of tone that was filled with intense mockery, "ready to go?"

>>>>>>>>>

Elméra walked as quietly as she might through the seemingly abandoned corridors. She did not feel frightened really, but a little suspicious.

It was too quiet and where was her brother? He certainly was not working in the mine. Calmir was lazy and he would never work for his money. That is why he had captured Rothinzil and Legolas to begin with.

As walked through the darkness she began to think about that Elf and a sloppy, wayward grin spread across her pale features. He was strangely sweet, she mused, and she could tell that he was extremely kind hearted. It hurt her to see him in so much agony and ready to welcome death with opened arms to embrace it with.

She had never seen an Elf really before and now she was in love with one? The notion was foolish, she told herself with an inward sigh as she nearly stumbled over a stone that caught her suede boot. She looked around, for she could have sword she heard a rapid breath exhale and she felt eyes on her now.

They did not seem friendly and she swallowed down a cold and large lump of fear that was steadily rising in the back of her throat. Inclining her head as she wiped away her long hair from her face, she noticed her palms were sweaty with fear.

Drawing a deep breath she suddenly felt the urge to return to Rothinzil…she feared he was dead. A dread had fallen on her heart that she could not shake and she quivered slightly.

Pivoting on her heal, she turned and fled down the corridor as though all the orcs ever spawned were on her trail and ready to slay her cruelly. Her hair whipped behind her and she let it fly like a red banner.

But the young women suddenly halted and narrowed her eyes. She was allowing herself to get carried away and not only was that foolish but illogical. She had nothing to fear that she knew of. She saw no danger, but her senses told her otherwise.

The feeling of eyes was becoming increasingly more convincing and she placed her hand on the dagger she worse at her side. Her hand slid on the hilt as she prepared to draw it. Then she moved forward a careful step. Nothing. She was becoming like some silly housewife, jumping at every sound and suspicions were beginning to rob her of her sanity. She chuckled inwardly as she tried to suppress her growing fear.

Rothinzil was only a little ways away and she could walk to him a matter of a few more minutes, for she had not dared to stray too far.

She narrowed her eyes into even smaller slits, though it made seeing in the poor light of the mine much more difficult and grabbing her hair in the other hand swung it to one side of her neck.

It was only a few moments when she stumbled back upon the door to the old storage room. She breathed a deep breath of relief as she tossed her body against the door for a moment of rest. Removing her hand from the dagger, she closed her eyes. All seemed well. She was safe. He had nothing to fear to begin with, now she felt perfectly balmy. Chuckling, she opened her eyes and stared into Calmir's face as he smiled coldly and asked in a tone of ice and steel, "my sister, I was so worried for you. The body of that Elf is gone and I fear he isn't dead. He could be looking for you."

She shook her head as her demeanor changed to a closed and tight expression of mind and said, "don't be silly brother dear! He is dead, I saw him die." She turned her face away and looked at the ground. She then looked up and into his eyes.

The man laughed and said, "I think not sister. You saw him stabbed, but he did not die, did he?" he asked as he pressed his hands to her throat. She felt terrors reach for her and she glared at him with hard eyes.

"I do not know of what you speak," she said flatly and tried to shift away from her insane brother, but he tightened his grip. Placing a hand on her dagger, even though she felt frozen in fear, the maiden was about to stab him, but he caught her hand and smiled even more, if that were possible.

"Let us not start to kill family members now." Taking the dagger he tossed it out into the dark and he pressed his fingers into her throat until a sense of vertigo began to overcome her senses and she looked at him with wide and bleary eyes that still had a clear message: _I hate you_.

"Brother…," she began in a tight voice. But she did not know what to say. She could not betray Rothinzil and yet she was scared, not of death, but of how she would die. But she was older and she was not going to stand for this. She had stood up to him before and now was no different, was it? "You let go of me now. I mean it Calmir."

He hissed, "tell me what I want to know." Then a false kindness came to his voice that was more of derision, "I won't harm him if you want him as your little whore."

She tried once more to tear away but his grip was far too strong, "he is not my whore! He is my friend!" she snapped as her hands clawed at her neck. He shook her and she felt her lungs throbbing for sweet air. However, her pride was not about to let her give in and she felt a bitter anger rising in her heart to slay him, but she was going to do that. Not yet anyway…

"Whatever you say sister. Now tell me where he is, because if I have to find him, he will be killed. I will skin him alive and I mean it. But if you tell me, I may yet let him leave." She twisted and writhed in his grip some more before giving him the desired answer.

"Very well," she moaned and a tear slid down her face as she began to sob. "I hid him in the back of one of the furthest mines. Please don't kill him!" She was begging now and as her brother's hands came from her throat, she fell to her knees before him and her arms went across her stomach as she rocked back and forth in all appearances emotional agony.

Calmir grinned and said, "I won't…yet." He turned and began to walk away, but then he stopped abruptly and spun back around to look down at his sister's shaking form. He felt suddenly happy, as though what he had done was a good thing and lunging his foot out, he struck her in the face with the toe of his boot, breaking her lip. She sucked in a quick break, so as not cry out as she felt the lower lip swelling and hot, salty blood rushing into her mouth with a sickening feeling that followed it. Her mouth was stinging sharply and she licked the corners with her tongue, tasting her pain. "Thank you sister."

She whispered bitterly behind him as he went, "and you're not welcome brother." As she stumbled up, she wiped the back of her hand across her mouth to remove the blood that had appeared again. Her old comforts with lying had returned and she felt her heart turning hard once more. But after the experience she had just undergone, she was going to fight the old habit, but rather embrace it as a survival technique.

She placed her hand on the door and slowly, not making a sound and willing that she wouldn't, she slipped inside quickly and with the grace of an Elven princess of the old world, before it was changed.

Rothinzil was awake now and a light was in his eyes that showed he was feeling alive and better. The minute he had heard the door being opened, his eyes had darted to it to see who would appear through it. When he saw that it was Elméra, he had relaxed and let out a deep breath before wincing.

When she saw him she smiled, but he felt that it was hollow. She said softly, "so you are awake Rothinzil?" She shut the door gently as the Elf struggled to sit up.

"I am, for what it is worth." He honestly felt that he might as well be dead, because there was nothing he could do to help her or the situation each was in. He had let his prince down and his King. He could certainly never return to Mirkwood, for he could not face telling Thranduil that his only son and heir was dead or lost forever and that it was his fault. It was not that he feared his King's wrath, it was that he knew if he told Thranduil this horrible thing Mirkwood would fall into darkness and the King of the Wood-Elves would die of grief.

She answered, "I thought I had lost you." She drew her hand across her mouth again and it came off red with her own blood.

This did not escape the eyes of the Elf. He narrowed them into slits and asked firmly but gently, "Lady Elméra, come a bit closer, if you will." She looked uncertain and he murmured, "you are hurt Lady." She remembered her mouth, which she had been unconsciously wiping blood from and put a hand over it, turning away.

"Don't trouble yourself. I am fine," she said reassuringly over her shoulder.

"You remind me of Legolas or a couple other friends of mine, "he snickered as he wheezed around the pain of his wound.

She turned on him and raised a perfect red brow skeptically, "oh?" She walked closer until she stood above him and asked with a laugh in her voice, "how so?"

Rothinzil resisted the urge to laugh his head off at her and spoke around his chuckles, "they are never hurt."

She actually laughed and suddenly stopped as Rothinzil wheezed in pain. Bending down, she licked the blood on her lip before shifting the old furs behind the Elf to give him better support for breathing. Blood was soon back on her lip and Rothinzil reached a trembling hand up and wiped it away for her and she looked at him in shock. It looked as though Elméra was about to break down, but she put her emotions under control. "Rothinzil, why do you care?"

"You dragged me from the brink of death. I consider that to be something a friend would do," he answered quietly.

She kneeled by him and asked in a wavering and yet strong voice, "do you think of me as more than a friend?"

He looked away for a moment, wondering what to say. He did, didn't he? But he was one of the Eldar…she was not. He knew that this would be the greatest thing he had to give, but he felt she was worthy of it. She had dared to drag him to safety, she had used her strength that she needed to survive to call him from the dark. "I think of you as a _close_ friend." He struggled to sit up as she watched a series of emotions strange and great, wondrous and terrible, pass over her face.

He managed to sit up and she looked at him with watering eyes that she hated herself for at the moment, "Rothinzil, you could get worse. Please lay back down."

"No," he spoke so soft it was hardly audible. Elméra looked at him and she narrowed her eyes in anger and a fierce light lit up in them that was somewhat frightening. All the tears that had looked like they were ready to spill over seemed to vanish.

"Rothinzil, you lay back down and rest!" she demanded in a hiss. She began to stand up, but he caught her arm and she did not try to get free, instead she stared at him with tapering eyes and a bristling anger crossing her features. It was nearly comical in the Mirkwood Elf's opinion. She was ready to scold the inured being some more but never got the chance. Rothinzil's lips came into contact gently with her cheek and she felt a tremor of happiness and shock rush through her. It was radiant joy.

Afterhe had planted the kiss she pushed herself away a moment and he looked into her eyes that seemed to glitter not with anger, but a dream-like joy as the maiden spoke, "Rothinzil you are badly wounded…"

"And if I die tomorrow, I would want you to know what I thought of you," he answered and she smiled before he shifted her hair away from her fae and smiled like a lost puppy that has found a home. She wanted him to kiss her on the lips but she imagined that blood would not taste too wonderful.

Rothinzil sank back down into the furs with a sigh. His wound hurt, but he seemed numb to it and numb to all evil. He felt dazed and a careless grin spread across his face like spilled water. He looked at the ceiling and sighed again before his weariness began to take over and he slid into a peaceful retreat of rest.

Elméra watched him for a brief moment and then she smiled and shook her head as she pulled the furs closer about her beloved to make sure he did not get chilled. She placed her slender hand about his face and then bracketed his pale features in both of hands as she whispered, "You are so lovable Rothinzil and you have such a large heart." Just saying his name made her smile inside and chase away rain clouds with rains that threatened to drown her spirits.

His face contorted in his sleep as he felt his wound eating him away and withering at his health. The maiden, being very tired and lonely, lied down beside her Elf and began to close her eyes, listening to his uneasy breathing. Her hand she set over his heart, so she could feel it beating, so she could feel that he was alive. The other hand she placed under her cheek and she watched his face before her eyes closed all the way and she too fell asleep.

>>>>>>>>>>>>

Stupid, insane, ridiculous, incompetent, could the list go any further? Mused the golden-hared Elf-lord as he sat by the bed that bore Estel. Of course the list could go further! A whole lot further if he were not so nervous that he could hardly think of anymore words in his vocabulary that described himself at this moment. Wait….'idiot' was another one that was certainly the truth.

If it wasn't then he didn't know what was. No one in their right mind would have let Erestor be alone with Estel injured for an hour or more. Yet he had done so. He had abandoned his lord's son, no matter how long, he had still done it.

He looked across the room where Erestor was indulged deeply in a red book that from the title Glorfindel gathered it was about the land surrounding the village and the mines, abandoned or active. Well, now supposedly all were abandoned. The Gondolin lord had his doubts.

Erestor snorted and said, "there is a mine not far from here supposedly vast and no longer in use and hasn't been for a long time. Not since the orcs started tunneling near it." Keeping his face in the book, he continued, "I would bet anything that is where they are. Perhaps those men that took them are in league with the orcs."

Glorfindel shivered and said, "that is possible, but we will not know until Estel awakes…if he awakes." The golden-haired Elf sighed and said, "if he doesn't I will never forgive myself."

He had been so naive…..so stupid. He was not a young little Elf of only a few centuries. He knew better, he was thousands of years old and he went against his better judgement and it very well could cost his lord's son's life. He wished he could go back in time and drag Estel back even kicking and screaming home.

He let Aragorn go to save Legolas and Roth, but now that was even uncertain, so the ranger's death would be in vain. And if he didn't die, all he had been through would have been in vain and he would have to live with the fact that Legolas and/or Rothinzil were dead.

"You still blame yourself," the counselor shook his head and muttered, "it is unhealthy and you know as well as I that brooding does nothing for a situation unless it worsens it." The dark-haired adviser closed the book and spoke again, "besides, you know that is anything but becoming of an Elf-lord such as yourself and you have a reputation to protect."

"Not anymore," answered the addressed Elf-lord grimly. "After Estel dies what reputation is worth protecting?" he asked as he watched the counselor.

The raven-haired Elf inclined his head and looked at his companion quizzically, "You have to turn this life around. It isn't helping and right now is the time when we need to be all that we can be. Time is running out, Lord Glorfindel."

Glorfindel knew this, but he had needed someone to tell him. "You are right," he answered. He was not about to apologize for anything though and if that was what Erestor was looking for he would be sorely disappointed.

Erestor shook his head and responded shortly, "you are really feeling down to admit that I am right." He sighed, "Glorfindel, how can people respect Elves like ourselves more when they see you acting this way without hope?" He was going to regret this but he had to say it, "I am beginning to worry for you."

"Well don't waste your time, I am fine."

"Oh, I can tell," answered the other sarcastically and he stood up, going over to the fire he stoked it and spoke at the flames, "stubborn stupid, just like the twins…I can see where Captain Ancú gets it."

"Can you now?" asked Glorfindel bitterly and he looked at Estel, whose face had actually one paler and less life seemed to radiate from him. He was fading.

Erestor rolled his yes and watched the flames dancing merrily. The warmth on his face felt good and he breathed in the hot air that made him feel tired. He was weary enough to sleep from worry himself, but because of worry he could not sleep. It was kind of ironic now that he thought about it.

_"Where are you? I am waiting for you, my friend," Legolas' voice drifted into his dreams and the ranger tried to shove it aside. But the haunting voice of his captive friend came again, stronger, "where are you? Have you forgotten about me? About your promise?" _

_"I have not forgotten. How could I?" he asked and then said, "but I am so weary." _

_"I know, I am here to help you." The prince's voice seemed so calm. Was he dead? Was he waiting for Aragorn in Mandos' Halls, or was he alive, waiting to be rescued. _

_"How can this be?" asked the ranger quietly as he felt pain race through his awareness and his body slow a little more. _

_"You have to wake up…"_

_"I can't fight this drug anymore. I tried Legolas…" he begged. It was a torment to go against the deadly potion. It would be so much easier to die…._

_"Wake up…."_

_Legolas, I would give it all for you. But this is impossible….."_

_"Wake up…" the voice continued. _

_"Legolas, I CAN'T!" snapped the ranger in his dream and he felt himself sliding further into darkness. _

_A mist surrounded him and the voice of his friend faded. Had Legolas died? Had he given up on him? What was going on? _

_"LEGOLAS!" he cried bitterly. "Come back, please! Don't leave me!" _

_The mist became to thick to see through and for a second the ranger thought that he was going to Mandos's Halls. But no, he could not be, because his body still beat with agony. It throbbed through him with his heartbeat, raced with his blood. _

_Then a new voice came to him, but one he recognized so well. _

_"Please come back, Estel," Glorfindel's calm voice reached his ears. "I made a horrible mistake and I am so sorry." _

_"Glorfindel?" asked the man skeptically. _

_"Estel, now is not your time to visit Mandos…again…anyway…please wake up. I will do anything. Legolas is lost. We can't find him." _

_"But he was just with me…." Answered the ranger in a bewildered voice. _

_"He is lost, perhaps dead. I don't know. You aren't going to leave me with just Lord Erestor, are you? That would be very cruel on your part." The Gondolin Elf tried to make light of the situation. _

_Aragorn shook his head and moaned, "you two don't really hate each other." _

_"That is yet to be proven. I can't say I would rescue him from a hoard of orcs." _

_"Glorfindel I can't do this…I don't have the strength…." He said in a tired voice that suddenly was beginning to slide and the ranger felt himself beginning to fall into Valar knew what. "Glorfindel!" he cried. _

_A hand reached through the mist and he reached for it, so it could pull him out of his horrible dream that was becoming real. He held the hand tight and felt himself hanging on by only that hold. The rest of him was swinging over Death's Brink. _

With a jolt Aragorn was awake and next to the bed, he heard a thud and glancing over to his side, he saw Erestor…wasn't it? Yes, Erestor, kneeling on the floor and saying in a voice wrapped with devastation, "Glorfindel!" It almost sounded as though Glorfindel was in trouble and Erestor actually cared. Was he still dreaming? Possibly…

"Lord Erestor," murmured Aragorn softly with a voice so weak he hardly knew it was his own.

Erestor leaped up and said with a white face, "oh Valar! Estel! You live! But how…."

Glorfindel's eyes fluttered open and he muttered, "Erestor, pray to not slap my face again, whether I am unconscious or no." He sighed and said, "I was halfway awake and I can tell you that was entirely unnecessary!" The golden-haired Elf looked up at Estel and he smiled, "I thought I was going to lose you young one. Will you never cease to amaze me?"

Erestor looked at Aragorn, who was now shaking with cold and he went to get another blanket. Upon returning he asked Glorfindel, who was sitting in his chair again, "Estel lives, you were on the floor…why doesn't this add up?" He knew that there was at least one gap hat needed filling, perhaps more, but brick by brick.

"I called him back Erestor. There are some benefits to being dead and coming back to life. Like the power to help call others back from the brink of death if the Valar assists me and it suits their purpose." The Gondolin Elf-lord sighed and said, "I think without them I would have killed myself." He sighed, "what strength I had was enough…barely."

Erestor just scowled and said as he tucked the woolen wrap about the human, who was watching both of the Elves with an expressionless face, "Lord Glorfindel you are the most reckless, incompetent Elf-lord Arda has ever even dreamt of knowing!" Aragorn was still trying to place events with how he had gotten to the place he was in. It wasn't working and it made him hurt even more with a relentless headache.

Glorfindel just sighed and retorted, "at least I am not the most stuck up and arrogant Elf-lord Arda has ever known."

"So are we going to engage in the 'name-game' now?" asked Erestor quizzically and with a raised brow as he stared at the other with a scrutinizing gaze. Aragorn was laughing inside, but somehow the smile just would not creep across his weary features.

The ranger wrinkled his forehead as he pondered why exactly he was still alive once more and then he felt ill, very ill. Legolas was not here.

Everything came back in a torrent of horror and misery…the arrow…the hill…his friends being surrounded and for all he knew killed or captured. It hurt him so deeply that he was ready to go back in to the coma. But Legolas had been in there…in his dream or vision…begging.

He was asking if Aragorn had forgotten about him. Was that really what Legolas was thinking now? No! That could not be! Or was Legolas already…gone…dead and lost? Oh Valar!

"We have to find them! They could be dead!" cried the ranger and he began to get up, but he moved far too fast and his head began to spin so that he fell back against the pillows, leaving Erestor and Glorfindel to exchange glowering frowns.

"We aren't going anywhere for at least a week! You just nearly died!" said Erestor firmly. He pressed Aragorn down as the stubborn human tried to get up again. "You are far from fit I think."

"And who exactly placed you in charge? " asked Glorfindel grumpily. "We don't have much time Erestor. Aragorn doesn't have to come with us. He can stay here and rest. In all reality you should stay here as well."

"Lord Glorfindel, you know very well that it would be impossible for you to go by yourself. What could one do?" asked the black-haired adviser as he went to sit in his chair by the fireside. "Now I see why Lord Elrond calls you 'mad'."

"He does not!" snorted the golden-haired Elf with a laugh.

"Oh yes he does!" argued the counselor valiantly. ''Mad' and 'young for his age'."

"I can just imagine," said the warrior flatly. He had had this suspicion for a while now, but Erestor only confirmed it. He mused further, though, that neither was unfitting for him at times and Lord Elrond was probably right. As always.

Aragorn said, "we don't have much time. I am telling you he was weak enough earlier though he would not admit it! Who knows what they are doing to him!"

Then Aragorn suddenly felt more ill than he had in a long time and he felt every once of color he had drain from his face and he passed out leaving both Elves to gape and causing them to forget their argument completely.

**TBC……..You know what? We haven't had a true evil, sinister cliffy in fifteen chapters! Ugh! How awful! Don't you think:-) I mean, we must be coming down with something horrible! -**_cough- _**We had better look into that. LOL **

**Please leave us a review. We haven't been getting much feedback and so we are beginning to question this story's well being. Of course if you have school work or something, we understand (we have that too), but if you have a minute or two to spare, a review would be very much loved (we can stop posting whenever we want)! Not meaning to rant here though. :-) Just please give us feedback, it is comforting, it helps us grow in our writing skills and makes us happyLOL! Thanks from both of us. **

**Review responses: thank you much! **

**Marie Delcore:** Oh indeed, poor everyone. Glad someone seems to care about little ol' Caranfea. He was beginning to feel rather hurt. -_ hugs resisting red-head- _Ya gotta love 'im! Can't get enough of that gore! LOL Thanks for the review1 :-)

**Nefhiriel:** Oh! Hope everything is going okay with your dad! I, Celeb, know what that is like. My dad just had heart surgery a year ago last month actually. It can be a hard experience. Nope, certainly can't live without good ol' ranger pain. :-) Thanks for the review!

**elitenschwein:** Glad you enjoy the ranger angst. It is hard to write being an Elf lover. The author note at the end of that last chapter was totally a sardonic thing. We do not consider ourselves experts in the fine art of ranger torture. LOL :-) Thanks for the review.


	16. You Know Its Faith

**Decided to post early because the chapter is complete and we can. **

**Enjoy!**

_**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**_

_You Know Its Faith _

_You know its faith_

_It's all you've got left._

_Hanging by a thread_

_You feel like you are dead. _

_You know its faith_

_When you can't feel a heart beat_

_But you believe you're alive. _

_And you know its faith_

_When you feel you are suffocating_

_But you believe you can still breathe. _

_It's all you've got left. _

_You can't live without it. _

_**"All You've Got Left" Celebdil-Galad **_

It was about early morning when Legolas woke to hear shouting. It hurt his head that was acting overly sensitive and the Elf frowned as he raised his chin from it's place on his knees to watch as the door was flung open that lead to the mine shaft where he and Caranfëa were kept.

The more amused part of his mind saw light coming from the other side of the door and two figures coming through. But wait, no, that was the realistic part of his mind. He was becoming so weary it was hard to tell reality from unreality. But the light from beyond the door was most certainly real. Caranfëa, being shoved by King was returning and he could hear the Elf's shackles clinking and clanking. More than audible words were shaking and bouncing off the walls as King spat them at the little Elf he had thrust before him.

"You lost? Elf, you lost more than the match my little fool!" seethed the man astringently as he smacked the Elf strongly on the back of the head, lurching the redhead forward. Caranfëa scowled and Legolas could hear him cursing under his breath.

Legolas tilted his head and snorted in frustration. He was tired of being cramped and locked up in the dark. He would welcome just a sliver of true sunlight or a little chase by the orcs of the mountains. But neither of those unattainable goals were only causing him to brood more in the dark and that had to be anything but advantageous. And right now he needed all the advantage he could get.

Caranfëa looked at him as he was picked up by his tunic back and flung to the ground. He hissed as his knees scrapped on the floor and he felt blood rush to overflow the injured area. King was obviously drunk, beyond reason and he delivered a harsh and well placed blow to the poor Elf's skull, actually managing to tear a cry from this Elf that Legolas had thought to be made of iron or some hard rock.

The prince winced and even though he did not particularly like the young immortal he felt compelled to help him as best as he could. That, and he was bored and going insane. Getting up from his position, he nearly fell over as he felt his indolent limbs throb and tremble slightly. His injured leg nearly screamed at him and he bit down on his tongue for a moment to recover his wind from the cry clutching his throat.

The blonde prince then said, "King! Leave him be!" Legolas knew he had just stepped on a hornet's nest and was about ready to get stung, but he felt suddenly like he could withstand anything all. King snapped his head up from where he had been watching the pain flash before Caranfëa's face and his piercingly cruel gaze bit into Legolas, sending shivers down the Elf's spine.

It was then Legolas knew that he had made a horrible mistake. One that he might not live to regret. But he steadied his breath and heart beat.

King picked up Caranfëa by his tunic and flung him into the open cage that was the Elf's prison. The redhead cried out again and then rose to his feet, ready to make a run for the door. But King was one step ahead of the little Elf and slammed the door on the smaller being's face. It's clang shattered the air and made everyone within earshot jump. Caranfëa just scowled from behind the bars as the man laughed in his drunken voice, "you are too slow, you damn Elf!" He laughed all the more and tossed his mug against the bars. Caranfëa simply glared and raised his brows as he shrugged,

"No, you are too drunk to realize that I am half battered to death and still nearly escaped your proud grasp."

King paid this Elf no more mind and turned his befuddled insults upon the prince, "So you have got a mouth, eh?" he said with a crazed grin that made Legolas get a slight twinge of fear in his gut. Reaching into his pocket, he produced a chain that looked very much like a large necklace but stronger and it had a strange loop in the center where the chains were rougher, never filed smooth like the rest. Perhpas it was strange kind of horse bit.

As Legolas got a closer look he saw it was _like a horse bit_, but most definitely not one. It was exactly in looks like the chain ones that were like a necklace with chain links but strong as iron and bit into the skin. The chain had one difference now, reasoned Legolas gloomily as he looked at it closer. The torment device had a loop for his tongue to be placed in, locked in horrible agony. Chains like these would not break and were horribly painful at the slightest tug.

Legolas rubbed his tongue to the roof of his mouth and could already taste the metallic flavor of the horrible, biting and burning links sawing at his tongue and torturing his nerves. He could already taste his own blood. It was a sickening thought, but he had gone too far to back down and be thought craven by this man, who drunk or sober could deal out painful punishments.

King went and placed a hand on the cell door handle, a devilish grin on his face. He suddenly, with astonishing speed for his drunken stupor, unlocked the cell and slammed Legolas backwards with a powerful kick as he came in. This rocketed the immortal against the wall and Legolas hit his head sharply.

The prince was stunned and shook his head, but was not quick enough to evade the man's grip that was on his jaw, squeezing like a vice to hold his mouth open. Legolas tried to buck free, but the grip became extremely painful and he was already weak.

As the blonde prince writhed to be free, the chain was slipped into his mouth and shifted so that it was under and over his tongue his tongue. His tongue was in the center of the loop and then it cinched tight and pricked deeply all in a single adjustment of the chains. He felt it bite into the soft flesh and blood seep out in stinging bubbles and tiny crimson creeks. Legolas stopped moving as it bit deeper and he wanted to scream.

King was not satisfied and taking the Elf prince, he gripped the Elf by the neck and pulled him forwards so that Legolas was forced to have his head bowed. Then he drew the clasp and buckle of the chain and thin strapped harness around to the back of the prince's head and locked it there so painfully tight that Legolas felt his tongue go to the roof of his mouth as the chain links bit all around it and he could not breath with this device on. He could not swallow and he felt saliva trickling out of the corners of his mouth and he knew it was tainted red.

But he could not lick back the blood and it itched rather annoyingly as it ran down his chin. King looked into his captive's face, watching the sings on pain to see if it was tight enough. He could see Legolas writhing behind the defiant look. Yes, it was tight as was needed, but how much more fun could he have with one more notch tightened? He would show this Elf who seemed to think he was the boss under here.

So he drew it tighter and Legolas cringed as more saliva dribbled down his chin and his blood mingled with it. This simple contraption was far worse than any torment other than emotional torment than the son of Thranduil had ever seen the like of. He was ready to flail in agony and his breath was strange and hard to control as he tried to breathe through his nose.

King grinned so sinisterly that he was actually succeeding in frightening Legolas, ever so slightly it was enough to make Legolas feel ashamed. He shuddered as he drew a painful breath and looked at King with icy eyes and a white face that showed up clearly in the dim light. He tried to find heart to even attempt a defiant mutter towards the man that held him prisoner. But he felt the chain eat away at the flesh of his tongue and he just sparred with the Dark Dúnadan in a baleful scowl.

King did not have to say anything, it was written on his joyous features. _Have a nice recovery now Elf. Not even your Valar can help you here. You are going under. You will be defiant to the last, but in the end, you shall fall. _

He then left, leaving Legolas to his dark brooding. Legolas sat and tried to lean his head against the back wall of his cell. But that only caused more pain and agony to race through his jaw and to flood into his head, wracking it with formidable headaches and Legolas tried to rest his chin on his knees, but that too was totally out of the question. Legolas had to sit straight up.

It was oddly enough that now he actually wanted to eat, his stomach was cramping and his mind reeling. He felt so weak. It was impossible for him to hold on any longer, wasn't it? No, but he wished giving up was his only option, then it would be a whole lot easier and he would have possibly a whole lot less guilt about even considering it.

Caranfëa cocked his head and squinting in the dark he saw the cruel device of King, the Lord of the underground domain. It made his breath catch and his throat and mouth sore just looking at it. He could only imagine what pulsing suffering his liege was suffering through.

This wasn't fair. He should be the one with that mouthpiece on, with grueling agony blinding his senses. But no, his prince had taken the fall for him and Caranfëa watched his lord's feature's go paler in pain as he watched King exit the cell and not even look back as he slammed the door shut and left the prince sitting in the dim light.

Caranfëa called to his lord, "Prince Legolas, I am sorry. You really shouldn't have done that. I had everything…."

"…under control?" finished Legolas for the young Elf as he hissed and arched his back in pain and felt the blood thicken in his mouth. He writhed a minute longer and then struggled out a few more words, "yeah….right." He coughed as the blood slid down his throat in an obnoxious trickle and as he coughed, he jerked against the chain and it hurt him to the point where his mind threatened to go black and his senses blurred for a brief moment.And still the blood became more filling in his mouth.

Caranfëa said in a worried and near frightened voice resonance, "please, my prince, you have to rest. Just close your eyes and…."

And do what? Pretend all was well? Put a lie into his head and make up his own imaginary world that would fail him in the end and create a horrible let down.

"And just think of home…. The trees and how they whisper to you. And the gurgling brooks that giggle and coo as they babble through the grasses," continued Caranfëa with a sigh. He watched as Legolas closed his eyes, coughed on more saliva and shot them wide again.

Legolas wanted to think of that sort of thing, but even that was lost from his long memory, because Mirkwood had long ago lost that charm and had gone dark. He wanted to so much to help his people, but he was stuck here, get tortured by a drunken man…a Dark Dúnadan, who was going to kill his best friend and as far as he knew everybody else was dead but Aragorn.

It was enough to make his blood boil, but he could do nothing and as he looked at Caranfëa his eyes read, _help will come_.

Caranfëa shook his head and spoke softly, "I thought that long ago and no one came for me, Legolas. It is not going to happen. We have to play the cards we are dealt, my liege." The smaller Elf slid own the bars and he brushed his bright red hair aside from his sweaty face. "The only escape from here is to die."

Legolas willed himself to speak, "no…Strider will come…for me." The blood in his mouth thickened more and spilled over the corners and he resisted the urge to cough and cause more pain. Just because nobody was able to get Caranfëa out did not mean that they wouldn't come and free him.

A strange scratching sound could be heard along the stone wall behind the Elves and both tensed and listened. Caranfëa smiled grimly as he recognized the dreadful sound that he had not heard in a few weeks. But now that it was back, he knew that trouble was soon to follow. "Orcs," he said in response to Legolas' bewildered look. "They have been tunneling there for weeks now. I thought when it stopped they were done, but apparently not. If they break in here we are going to be dead, unless they want us for their dark purposes." Here he shivered and said, "but there is nothing we can do. It is only a matter of time."

Legolas looked over his shoulder at the sound and his eyes widened as he realized what all of this meant. It was a scary thought. He was already extremely vulnerable. If they got a hold of him he was a dead Elf and slowly at that. Perhaps the only escape was death. But he had to believe because his faith was all he had left. He had to believe he could breathe.

He felt weariness coming to claim him and he struggled naught against it, but let it drift over him like a warm and comforting blanket in this cold and dark place. But he had to believe he was not alone.

>>>>>>>>>>>>

Rothinzil woke with a pang running all over his body from his wound. He could not sleep, it hurt so badly and so he lay awake looking at the dark earthen ceiling and wondering how he had gotten this far. He could feel Elméra lying next to him, and her air coming in soft and deep breaths. He loved her so much, but he did not know if he was worthy of her. If ever she deserved someone, she deserved someone like Legolas or Aragorn. But he knew Aragorn was not an option and Legolas was in no ready ever even going to get married. His prince just did not seem to like that idea very much, even when he was flirted with by some of the most beautiful Elf-maidens in the kingdom, even in Arda. All of the m but Lady Arwen, which was fine.

Rothinzil had never given much thought of falling in love and now as he lay there musing all about it, he felt like fool.

He looked over at Elméra and saw her long and attractive serene face that was white, but not an unhealthy white. Her lips were parted in deep sleep and her long auburn hair graced her shoulders, overflowing onto her face. Roth gently reached a hand out and gingerly, as though he feared to hurt her, brushed her hair from her face. She shifted in her sleep and looked up at him with bright eyes that made him smile. "Rothinzil?" she asked softly and sat up. As she did, she felt the cold and pulled her cloak closer about herself.

She saw her breaths come out in frosty clouds and then she smiled. Rothinzil smiled back and said, "I think I might be dying."

She stopped smiling and said ethereally, "no, Rothinzil, you can't be." She looked so grave and Rothinzil nearly laughed, because he wasn't dying at the moment, or at least in the sense that mortal's thought of dying. No, in that sense, he was healing remarkably.

"Well it won't happen for another at least three hundred years if you will marry me when this is all over."

She looked at him in shock and murmured, "Rothinzil, I don't know what to say. I…." Her eyes tore away from his and stared at the pile of old furs that they both lay on. This was asking a lot. She could not do that. She just did not think she could. It was too great a commitment. She would feel tied down and she didn't want to go and live with the Elves.

"Rothinzil, you are the most charming Elf I have ever met and certainly very handsome and all I ever have wanted….but this I cannot do." She just could not be tied down.

Roth looked at her hair, for no real reason in particular, it just wasn't her face, he supposed. "Lady Elméra…"

"You know what?" she asked tearfully. "It was just a dream." She then rose and brushed her skirt off even though there was nothing on it. It was better than looking at Rothinzil's face that she knew would break what pieces of her heart she still had left. Pulling her hair back, she then began to walk to the door.

Rothinzil just looked at the wall and then said in a far away and sorrowful voice, "it as a dream…. Yes." With that he closed his eyes and she forced herself to look at him. His face was now drawn and the light seemed to have left it. And this time it was her fault. It was all her fault and she felt so angry towards herself. But she could not help it. She was not going to trapped in something she could not get out of.

But it seemed to her that Rothinzil was not fighting to survive anymore. "Roth, I am going to get some help. We can't do this on our own. Are you going to be well?"

The Elf did not even open his eyes before he muttered, "yes, I will be fine."

"Are you…"she began but was cut off sharply.

"Yes," he all but snapped at her.

She felt her throat constrict and a huge lump developing in her throat that she could not swallow. It was too painful. Then she began to feel angry and frowning, she flung the door open and walked out rather haughtily, nearly slamming the door shut behind her.

That stubborn, annoying, frustrating, stupid Elf! Why couldn't he just grow up? She growled inwardly. The only reason she was angry with him was really no other rationale other than the fact that he had made her uncomfortable. He had also made her hurt him, hadn't he? No, wait, that was all her own doing. She paced outside he door and her footsteps echoed off the walls and made eccentric noises through out the tunnels and caves that they were hiding in.

Pacing provided some comfort, but not enough, the maiden decided brusquely and began to just walk. She was going nowhere in particular, just walking. Her anger had not blinded her to her surroundings though and she was fully aware of where she was and the dangers that precariously loomed around ever corner and haunted every step. She just was beyond caring.

As a matter of fact, she was so wrathful with herself at this moment that if a troop of orcs came upon her, or even her brother, she would be more than able to rip their heads off and still have plenty of energy to go around. Well, this might be a slight exaggeration, but nothing that she did not think was relatively possible at this point in her anger and brooding.

Of course brooding had never helped anyone, but perhaps they had not just not been doing it right. Who knows? Maybe she would be one of the first to succeed, highly doubtful but worth a try, she assured herself mentally.

Maybe if she thought of all that she could be doing and not what she had done that had gotten her this far that would help things out. But no, that did not either.

Taking her slender hand, she ran it through her long hair unconsciously and fumbled with the ends. Her eyebrows knitted as she wondered if maybe brooding was not the answer to her difficulties right then.

She had gone to get help, but what help was there to get? She changed the subject now. There was none. If she left it would take too long and Rothinzil would die, so that was fools errand. And the fact that she had even considered getting help was stupid too. She had to figure this out on her own.

What had her mother always done? Been alone and somehow made most ends meet. Of course her mother had died when she was young and left her with the burden of looking after a crumbling farm and an insane brother with a father who was never home and she had never known why. Now she knew, or guessed she did.

Why could she not survive on her own now? She asked herself in her mind, turning answers over that were relatively possible. The most logical one was that she was growing soft. Her heart had finally been touched…. pierced. Without something to fill the void she would die. Figuratively speaking, she would bleed to death.

This Elf had pierced her, was he the cure? Perhaps, but she hoped that there was any other way. How odd would it be to marry and Elf? One part of Elméra was overjoyed that Rothinzil had asked for her hand. The other half felt a deep and sickening fear. She was still frightened of Elves. This one appeared to be so sweet and gentle. He seemed to be a child at heart, but was that really what she wanted?

She narrowly missed tripping over a large stone in her path as she continued to pace outside the door.

Could she live with an Elf forever? Well, not forever or at least she didn't think so. Sooner or later she would die. Would he live on? What would he go through if he lived on and was bowed under grief? Or would he even grieve if she were dead?

This was a rather foolish question but she could not help asking it. After she had to consider all things.

Supposing that he would, would he live forever in pain? How could she send him to that fate? Elves had sensitive hearts, or so she had been told, so she was sure that his pain from her death would kill him. For an Elf that was a cruel death. They would rather die from a slow wound than of a shattered heart that just as glass, could not be put together again.

Rothinzil was wounded now, Elméra told herself as she stopped and stared into the darkness. But he as pulling past the wound, because he thought he had something to live for. What if he gave up on life, because she had said no?

Elméra was the most stubborn maiden he had ever had the pleasure of meeting. He had had his share of maidens flirt with him, though he had paid them no heed. And now, Rothinzil found it weird that she could kiss him and rest by his side, then deny him for her husband. What was her dilemma?

Had he known that maidens were this finicky he would have never even considered falling in love and getting a family.

He wanted to be with her more than anything, except saving his prince and escaping from this horrible place. He wanted to go where ever she went. He knew this would mean a large sacrifice, but at the moment, that was not even a problem. There was none he would not make for her and her love.

Oh, yes, he still loved her, even if she loved him not. But he had the strangest sensation that she did and was hiding this fact. What was she so adamantly frightened about? He saw no reason for fear. They were going to get out of here alive. In his mind there was no question.

Sighing, the dark-haired Elf looked up at the ceiling in exasperation. He was so frustrated and hurt. He felt like someone had stabbed his heart and was slowly killing it.

Perhaps it was time to go ahead and forsake Middle Earth and go to Mandos' Halls. He did not know and as he turned this thought over in his head, he knew that either way, he was going to die someday. He was not never going to see Valinor. The tragic part was, he didn't mind and he was not afraid.

>>>>>>>>>>>

Aragorn's eyes fluttered open and he looked about the room to see Glorfindel and Erestor looking at him with worried faces. He blinked stupidly as he felt his vision blurring and everything went foggy. "Legolas…" he murmured. "He is fighting. But right now he is resting. All is growing dark for him, I think."

Aragorn looked at the bewildered Elves and said ethereally, as though he had no breath left, "I felt it." He knew that he and Legolas had a close bond, like that of brothers. But this was just bizarre, like the weird dancing shadows created from the flames in the fireplace that were leaping with an enthusiasm that was inspiring. He was glad he knew that Legolas was alive, but he knew not where his friend was. He wished to goodness that he did.

Erestor smiled thinly and said softly, "you need rest. Your courage is admirable and your ambition to save the young prince is a wonderful intention at the moment, but misplaced, I think, for now anyway." He was truly not comfortable with the situation, even though it all seemed well. He, of course, was not a healer, but he sensed something evil and twisted about that wound. Some great malice was concealed in it and he had a feeling this was not going to be the last time in their lives that they confronted it. But he did not know if they would be victorious.

Glorfindel just jumped up and grabbed Aragorn's upper arms gently as he said, "you are not fit to travel. I am not going to lose you again. I could not bear it and neither could your father, I think." He pulled the blankets closer around the shaking human and he put the back of his hand to the hot forehead. "You are burning up. I am going to make you some tea."

Erestor said in a growl, "no you are not! You could not make a decent tasting tea if your very life, or hat of young Estel here, relied on it! That is going to be my task for the next half hour." He gave Glorfindel such a glare that the Gondolin Elf shrugged and slid down into the chair that was by the human's bedside. The golden-haired Elf just watched as Erestor went to go and find a kettle to put some tea in and then he said to Aragorn in a whisper;

"It's not a wonder now why he can't use a sword." The man looked at his father's friend and actually laughed.

"So what adventures did you two have as you came to find me?" he asked with a snort as Glorfindel's scowl turned into a smile, recalling the warg and the mountains.

"Young one, the laugher would suffocate you," he answered with a wry chuckle. He hoped that his words were not audible to Erestor, who would be more than willing to bring up not so wonderful parts of his past in Rivendell. Like the time that he had gotten drunk somehow and actually managed to fall down the stairs and from there stumble to Erestor's study and rearrange all the books. That was embarrassing, though somewhat funny when he thought of the hours spent by Lord Erestor putting all the books back.

"All the more reason for you to tell me, " teased the human as he raised himself up onto his elbows without Glorfindel noticing. He chose to ignore the fiery pain in his shoulder.

"Do you go and give your enemies a reason to retaliate?" asked the golden-haired Elf, looking at Aragorn with a rather amused and smug look as he realized he had the man's interest peeked and he could keep the human awake long enough to drink the tea that Erestor was making, or trying to.

"That is really rather unfair," complained the ill ranger as he worked to rise further without being noticed.

"What is, young one?" asked Glorfindel with slight chuckle to his voice that made it nearly musical, even for an Elf.

"That you are using my interests, your secrets and position against me," whined the ranger with good humor in his voice as he watched Glorfindel's classic expression.

The Elf-lord actually laughed so hard he nearly choked and said, "Estel, is it my fault that I am in charge and you are not? It is not like I planned this." He got up to go and get the book Erestor had left abandoned and Glorfindel thought rather lonesome, on the hearth.

"Oh, I know you planned it somehow Lord Glorfindel."

"I am hurt Estel. What ever have I done to earn your distrust and ill will?" asked the addressed yellow-haired being in a wounded tone of voice as he went and sat back down, holding the book. He opened it and prepared to read. But the human's voice stopped him abruptly.

"Do you want the long or short of it?" he inquired as to Glorfindel's preference with a smirk on his face.

"Actually, I would prefer neither. I perceive both would be quite long lists." He opened the red book and flipped through the pages, searching for maps of the land and town. Anywhere that would be a good place to hold two Elves captive. But he found nothing except for the old mines that were now supposedly abandoned and most likely run over by orcs and Valar knew what else lived there. But his heart told him that was their best chance. Erestor even seemed to think so.

"Thank Manwë, I certainly don't want to say it all," spoke the human to the Elf wearily. He managed to slither up into a rough sitting position. But he watched Glorfindel with one eye, waiting for the moment when the other would say, 'Estel, lie down'.

Often just when you think you have gotten away with something you get caught. Aragorn's scheme was no exception to the rule of thumb and Glorfindel said without even looking up from the red leather bound book, "Estel, lie down. When are you going to learn that I see all and know all."

"Oh, yes, you know everything," sighed the young man as he slipped back under his blankets (which he had to admit felt ten times better). His tone was sarcastic, but so was Glorfindel's earlier response.

"So much that it is frightening," stated the Gondolin lord as he stopped reading and placed a map of the land that was conveniently in the book before the ranger. "Tell me where it was exactly that you were wounded…tell me all you know."

Aragorn looked at the map and said, "this is an old map. I do not think it is up to date. Hand me the book, if you will."

Glorfindel hesitated before surrendering the book into the frail and sickly looking hands of the ill human.

As Aragorn accepted the volume, but as he did, a piece of paper, folded and crinkled, fell out and drifted onto the quilt. Aragorn narrowed his eyes and stared at the crinkled object before reaching for it. Glorfindel merely watched and leaned back in his chair as the piece was unfolded and a map revealed.

It was not old, the page's edges were not even yellow. It was fairly new and as the young man glanced it over, he came to the realization that this was not a lay out of the land, but of the mines and it was not long out of use. He looked up at Glorfindel whose brows were creased with obvious interest in the new evidence. "What do you suppose it is?" he asked the Gondolin Elf incredulously.

Glorfindel said in a laugh like voice, "it would help if I could really see it." But really he was totally serious and as Aragorn apologized and the paper exchanged hands between the Elf and ranger Glorfindel said, "thank you. "

Studying the strange map before him he spoke after two minutes or so, "it is a map of the mines, I think." He said confusedly, "it is new, that is for certain." He handed it back to Aragorn.

The studied it once more and said, "perhaps Erestor will make sense of it."

"Perhaps I will make sense of what?" asked a curious voice from the door.

Erestor came in holding a kettle with water and a mug. He looked quizzically at Glorfindel and Aragorn. Did he really want to know what they were brooding over now? No, but he had to.

"This map," stated Aragorn as he handed it off to the head counselor, who looked at it with scrutinizing eyes.

Setting the kettle down, he leaned against the wall causally and he raised his brows as he read the signs and legend of this strange and absorbing map. It was not unlike other maps and not hard to understand as far as he could read.

But then as he read things further, he realized this might be a bit more difficult but he would tell them what he knew. "This map you have discovered is new." They gave him a _yes-we-know-that _look so he continued. "It is of some newer mines and I think that these may be ones that are supposedly most recently worked on and abandoned." He shrugged and set the map down on the hearth. "I will talk to Lord Ryxen about it." He looked at Aragorn pointedly and said, "you are not getting out of drinking your tea Master Estel."

Aragorn just snorted and said, "Lord Erestor, why would I?"

"The more appropriate question would be why would you not," said the adviser concisely as he picked up the kettle again and careful not to spill water, hung it over the fire to get hot.

A dark and unexplainable feeling suddenly came over the ranger's heart. Something horrible was transpiring to Legolas, but he knew not what and that was worse than knowing. It made him feel dizzy and he felt his stomach churning.

**TBC………….Those reviews were so awesome. Okay...we know you like it now, but could you please do it again? LOL Those were awesome and you guys are so nice. We thought perhaps the "romance" between Elméra and Rothinzil was getting some of you guys' goats. **

**Chaos-x:** Mean? And you reviewed because you were bored and further more, you admitted it? Now who is mean mellon nin? Huh? Huh? Thanks for the review. See you later.

**Marie Delcore:** Hey there friend! Yes, Caranfea is a total cutie. Hmmmm perhaps it is time he got a picture made of him by us or something. Of course she has a major crush onhim!Why else wouldn't she slap him for kissing her? LOL Yessssss a nice long sleep precioussssss...Thanks for the review!

**Linuvial Greenleaf:** Our dear Linuvial, thanks a lot. But we don't mean to interfere with school work. Sorry. Hope all goes well for you. Hehehehehehehehe. Taking notes either of our families would be a scary and just dangerous thing. SIBLING HAZARD! Glad the first re-write is complete. Oh, I got your e-mail, but my account is messed up and I couldnot respond now. Sorry about that! Thanks for taking time out of your hectic schedule to review!

**Snow Glory:** Yes, the new Elf is a problem that way. Legolas had to give up at some point and bawl and give that juicy drool worthy angst! Calmir hasn't exactly found him yet. Oh but when he does...well...can't say yet. Glad you wish him to pull through. Glorfindel and Erestor do very much resemble Legolas and Aragorn at times. But just you wait. Thanks for the reivew!

**Nefhiriel:** Hehehehehehe. Thanks. -insert bow- We try to make it fulfill the humor of the story. LOL We are working on the Aragorn angst which is scheduled to get particularily wicked in a few more chapters. Don't know what kind of surgery that is, but it sounds horrible. Best of luck to your family. Thanks for the review.

**Deana:** A heart attack? -Legolas pants for breath- apparently he shares your initial reaction! LOL We would have one too. Yuck! Thanks for the review!


	17. Keep Me Hanging On

_**There is a warning for slightly course language in this chapter, so know we do not condone that kind of stuff, but we felt it was necessary to bring out character and stress of some characters (not the Elves:)). Thanks for your understanding. **_

_**Hope you enjoy. **_

_**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**_

_Keep Me Hanging On_

_I'm sinking slowly_

_So hurry hold me_

_Your hand is all I have_

_To keep me hanging on._

_Please can you tell me,_

_So I can finally see_

_Where you go when you're gone?_

_**Michelle Branch "All you Wanted" **_

It was midnight when Legolas awoke after he had slipped into a fitful rest that was filled with pain and horrible dreams. So in all actuality it had not been a rest at all. He sighed, or tried to, but winced as he recalled with great anguish the chains placed into his mouth and locked with a strong clasp at the back of his head. Were his hands free of shackles he might be able to work the clasp loose, but he could not even conceive of trying now, so he totally dismissed the idea.

The first thing he noticed was that he was terribly hungry and would die for just a bit of Lembas bread, which normally he hoped he would never taste again because it had begun to stick in his throat after a few thousand years of eating nothing when he traveled but the tasteless sustenance. But he doubted he could even chew it if he had the chains gone and his mouth was not stiff and as sore as his healing limb.

He also longed for water, something he had always taken for granted and had never truly longed for before. He tried to sit up straighter and felt the stiffness in all his muscles attempt to loosen.

Caranfëa heard Legolas shifting and he said, "at least you didn't suffocate, I thought you would during the night." His voice sounded genuinely gladdened and Legolas thought that if he actually took the time to look at his friend then he would see a faint smile playing on the other's lips despite their trouble.

Legolas smiled himself, _he had survived._ That was a comfort. Well, not exactly, but it was close enough and he had to take what joys he could find here. He tried to open his mouth a bit wider to speak to Caranfëa, but that was hard and painful. However, Legolas felt it was imperative to know why the younger being was still awake and how long he had been awake.

He managed to croak the burning question out though it felt like his tongue as ripped out. "How…long have you been…awake?" he breathed as he felt the wounds where the chains were reopen and bleed anew. It was not as bad tasting as it had been at one time. He actually was beginning to get used to the taste of his own blood. That was a bit frightening.

Caranfëa just shrugged, "all through the day until now." He then added worriedly, "the orcs nearly made it through last night, but they hit a large boulder that will take them a while to remove. About a week I would say."

Legolas started and he wanted to tell Caranfëa to keep the faith, but as he felt the metal between his teeth, he decided not to talk. If the orcs did break through in a week even though they would kill him, he would be happy. He would die with a smile on his face. He would die and be free at last.

He just wished he had had the chance to say good-bye to his father and feel the strong arms of the elder Elf embrace him in a warm and strong hug. But he was robbed of that chance now, that blessing. He would not get to say good-bye to sweet Rothinzil. But then with shock he realized that he might see him again. That was hard to think that gentle, kind and sensitive Rothinzil …lifeless. He had hoped he would never see that day.

Caranfëa knew what Legolas was thinking and said, "my lord, I am sorry, but we are not going to get out of here. It's too late. I am a fighter as much as the next person and I will never stop trying to break out of here. But I know that I will never get out from outside help."

Legolas shook his head and ignored his pain; "we…will…be…rescued." He coughed on the blood bubbling in his mouth and said, "we're…not...alone."

Caranfëa just sighed and said, "my prince, if you say so. But I am inclined to disagree." He then said with a frown, "do yourself a favor. Be quiet and try not to open your mouth."

Legolas snickered inwardly and then he stood up and began to walk around, relieving tense muscles and feeling more at ease. Nevertheless, this didn't do a thing for his pitiful hunger. His stomach burned and his throat felt swollen and dry. It wasn't so much because he had not ate for so long, but because he was nervous and because now that this horrible device hampered every jaw movement and the blood was causing acid to rise in his stomach he felt like he rather needed a comfort food.

As he paced in the dark the Elf heard that rustling noise again and cursing beyond the wall. The orcs were back, looking over the large boulder underground and contemplating ways to move it or tunnel around it. Legolas hoped they never found either way workable.

Both of the Elves were alerted to a banging noise as King reentered, more sober now and he was not stumbling. He actually was acting normal, save that he was being a bit sluggish in his movements. He had a torch in his hand and Legolas could see his face, keen and hard.

Legolas wondered what he was doing at this time of night and then he saw that another was with him, Calmir was there, with King. Something was horribly wrong. He felt his stomach turn and his eyes were growing wide, whether he wanted them to or not. The only thing he had the power to steady right now was the beating of his frantic heart.

Calmir said, "she lied to me. That bitch!" He kicked a glass bottle nearby that had been lying idol on the ground, sending it shattering against a wall. "That Elf is alive somewhere and she is hiding him."

King said, "my Elves know nothing of your problem. Perhaps you should tend to your Elf better and look after your arena fighters with a little more care." He spat and looked at Calmir's face and the other man looked absolutely livid.

"I know that blonde one knows something! Now either you get him to talk, or by the cursed dragon Smaug I will!" he stormed and took a step nearer to the cage Legolas was trapped in with the biting chain in his mouth. His eyes glittered with malice.

"You touch him without my consent and I will kill you, you miserable bastard!" snapped King fiercely. "I call the shots here Calmir and I don't give a damn about you or your sister!" He then turned bright eyes upon the other man and said in a low voice, "you tried to kill the Elf! You don't really want him back."

Calmir said, "you wouldn't have that blonde Elf if it wasn't for me! Now you let me talk to him, or I'll get him someday when you aren't here to protect him and then I will make him miserable." His eyes narrowed into little slits and he growled, "if you want to talk about treachery, why don't you tell everyone about who you really are? Perhaps when Lord Erestor spoke up against you in Elrond's councils you asked for it."

"What do you know of that? You weren't even born!" growled King with a dangerous tone that if Calmir was wise he would have backed off immediately.

"Everyone here knows the tales," rumbled Calmir as his eyes flashed, "and I no less. The only reason you lay down the law here is because people fear you. Well I don't." He seethed calmly, "I can destroy this world you think you rule. Let me talk to the Elf."

King looked over at Legolas and saw the bitter glare in the prince's eyes. Legolas looked like he could withstand anything at the moment and he looked like he was more than ready to do battle. His eyes were burning like bright blue stars and they looked lethal. Smiling, King said, "if you really to talk to him you can."

Legolas' glare darkened to a tense scowl. King came and unlocked his cell and then he looked at Legolas, "but without his halter. You want to talk to him, talk to him, but you shall not harm him." The man that Legolas was supposed to call 'master' called to the Elf, "come here Legolas."

Legolas came forward an uncertain step and then another one wondering all the while why he even did what this human was asking, but never took his eyes off the man that was standing in the door of his cell. King's hands came and went around the prince's head and he unlocked the contraption and the chain loosened before sliding off and out of his mouth, letting his tongue free. Legolas opened his mouth all the way and stared at King, who said, "I am your master, he is not. But if you don't respect him, if you embarrass me, then this will go on even longer and tighter." Hegrabbed the prince's chin and forced Legolas' eyes to meet his, "I am no monster unless you force me to be."

King then backed out and allowed Calmir to venture in. The man was stupid, thought King, but if he wanted to talk to Legolas that was fine. It wasn't like he was going to get anything from the blonde being so perhaps he would get discouraged and not return.

Calmir came in and said, "Elf, where is your friend?" asked the insane being grimly. His eyes followed Legolas' and waited for an answer.

"I do not know," said Legolas in low voice that was impendingly mortal. "I have been held prisoner these past few days." His voice was sardonic even though he spoke only the truth. His was letting Calmir know that there was no way he ever could have known what befell Roth. The fact that his best friend was missing and nobody knew his whereabouts troubled the prince further. What if Roth was dying alone and in the dark somewhere?

The he recalled what King had said to Calmir: _You tried to kill the Elf. _Calmir had tried to kill Rothinzil? He wondered how much pain his friend was in. He wished he knew and yet he was glad he did not. But the fact that his friend was alone in the dark somewhere, dying or already made cold caused a great anger to rise up in Legolas and it was burning so it felt like it could never be cooled.

King spat at Calmir and said, "Valar, you are a fool!" The other man ignored the comment.

Legolas was being perfectly honest when he had stated he had no idea where Rothinzil was and so he was not surprised when Calmir came and slammed him against the wall. Honesty had a price down here. Honesty could bring you death. In this case it brought torture. He had learned that much a long time ago. The fact that this man was itching to beat him to a bloody mess was only another proof to support his uncomfortable and disturbing conclusion. Oh Legolas could tell that he was waiting to beat him to a pulp by the way Calmir's hands twitched and closed nervously. He was really trying to hold himself back.

"Elf, all I want is the slightest hint, will you not just tell me?" asked the man in a suddenly serene voice that Legolas knew was no more than a mask. It would not take long to get rid of that mask. Legolas knew that if there was one thing Calmir hated, it was his face. The sight of it, Legolas knew, had to make the man see brilliant red.

"I can't tell you," answered Legolas simply and tried to slide around the human. "Will you leave yet?" Calmir placed a restraining hand on the prince's shoulder and applied a reasonable amount of pressure. Legolas' incandescence that was dancing in his eyes grew even brighter and he clashed with the impending human in a baleful look of daggers.

"You play a dangerous game Elf. King supports you, but when he isn't around, I will be back and then we will have some fun, you and I." This threat sounded more than sincere, but it concerned Legolas not. He did not need protection, he had not fallen that far. His leg was healing and soon they were going to be out of there. And he was so grateful to have the chains out of his mouth that he wasn't worried about too much of anything at the moment, except if Rothinzil was alive.

King said, "get off it Calmir. He wouldn't know, you idiot! He has been healing here for days now. Don't you have some poor creature to turn evil down here or some drunken row to attend?" he asked as he grabbed the back of the other man's tunic, pulling him out. "Get out of here."

"This isn't the last time we'll meet."

"Yeah, I will see you in Hell," snapped King. "Now leave or do I have to get my warg?" he asked in a threatening timbre that stated in no uncertain terms he was in no mood to be toyed with and tested. His nerves were on edge as it was.

Calmir stumbled back, but as he did, he laughed, "yeah, get her. Bring her to the ring, my beauty will rip her apart!" He continued to rumble to himself as he bumbled out in his own drunken stupor and called threats out over his shoulder.

King just shook his head and asked Legolas, "how is your leg? Is it healing or not?" His eyes fell on the torn limb and Legolas looked down at it as well. Legolas knew it was, but that would mean he was going to be forced to fight in the ring and kill…spill innocent blood or die. He did not want that to happen and he wondered if he lied that King would know.

"It still hurts….a lot," answered Legolas stiffly. He sat down and pretended to feel like he was in agony. King squatted down and took a closer look at the laceration, or what was left of it. Legolas tried to shift away, but the man grabbed his ankle and steadied the limb.

"Hold still," he growled. He began to feel the wound, which really did hurt enough to make Legolas grit his teeth. "You lie, Legolas. Do you fear the ring that much?"

"I do not fear it. I hate it."

The Dark Dúnadan raised his brows and laughed, "then you fight harder. I return what you give me. I may rule you, but I don't have to be cruel. Now if you lose, then I can be a monster and cause you to cry." Legolas gave a doubtful snort and King said, "I know you don't believe me, but don't make me prove you wrong." He shook the halter he placed on the prince earlier.

Legolas narrowed his eyes to show his observable displeasure. He turned away and stared into the dark quietly, without even letting King know that his threat had been heard. Legolas was really beginning to loathe this man and that was a horrible assertion because it was an understatement. He would love to see this man killed.

But the hate was not going to help, so he found it in his heart to pity the man. He pitied how he lived in dark, making money off other's pain and hopelessness. He pitied the way they had lost starlight, moonlight and sunlight. He pitied the way this man was once of the honorable kind of men and had fallen from the light. That was perhaps the most sad thing and in the back of his mind, though he knew in his heart it as not true, he could not help but wonder if it were even remotely possible that Aragorn could fall too, like a shooting star.

King said through the darkness and his voice, as much as Legolas hated to say it, caught the Elf's attention, "You just keep right on hating me Elf. You could be better off if only you would stop fighting so much. " Legolas drew a deep breath.

He shot a fiery and hard gaze at King, even though one could still see his eyes were jaded. "No, to find a middle ground with the evil and mislead is to relinquish all you have."

"Evil, my little prince?" asked King and he stroked Legolas' hair like he was petting a dog. Legolas did not jerk away, but looked stiffly at the man whom had his fingers snared in his golden hair. "I could be so much worse to you, you poor pampered little thing. Why would you ever call me evil?"

Legolas said with much difficulty as King yanked down on his hair, "because you have a filthy business. You torture unnecessarily and hold captive innocents. You have spilled innocent blood, I see it in your eyes. Do not play with me."

"Innocent? The blood of Elves is never innocent. Look at your own hands Legolas. What deaths have been your fault, and the fault of Elves in general? If not for your kind Sauron would not have made the Rings of Power, hm?" Legolas just glared and looked away. He had not even been born then.

"What was it that Calmir said about you and Lord Erestor?" he asked at length, but without looking at his captor.

"Lord Erestor," spat King as though the name left a vile taste in his mouth. "If ever he fell into my hands, may the Valar help him. I would kill him." He stood up and muttering to Legolas, he uttered, "Remember what I said princling."

He then left, but not before making sure that the Elves' prisons were secure so that no escape could be made.

As he paced the mines in the dark, unable to sleep he recalled all that had happened in his youth, when the earth had been younger and he more at ease. He had not started out as chief of the Black Market. He had started out exactly the opposite.

King had lived in Rivendell at a time, or at least traveled to it often with the other rangers. But Lord Erestor ever spoke against him in council meetings. The Elf-lord had sensed something twisted in the man that was waiting to come out and show itself to the world, but was waiting for a reason not to. Erestor had given his evil nature a reason to show itself.

Lord Erestor was beginning to really be a great counselor to Elrond and was proving himself. So all in Rivendell listened to him and took everything he said as fact and would gladly believe it.

It was at this time a large council was called for the rangers and the Elves. For this meeting Elladan and Elrohir could not be present as they were deep south and could not travel upward in time and did not even here from others that it had transpired until much later.

King had attended, though his name then had been the Elven name of Beleg, named after Beleg Cúthalion, for his accuracy with his bow and legendary speed and strength. Many said he was very worthy to bear an Elven name.

Orcs had been tunneling closer to the Elves hidden realm of Imladris and something had to be done.

In the end King, under the name Beleg, (named after the March warden of Doriath, who like King, had great skill with the bow) advised that they should not provoke the orcs by attacking them, rather let them go and move their border back. Lord Erestor spoke so strongly against Beleg's decision that in no time he had even the greatest doubter of his advising capabilities choosing to side with him and against the young human upstart.

Of course this had sent King into a rage and he found Erestor alone one night, walking in the garden under the stars, reciting old rhymes and tales aloud to himself and contemplating all that had happened that day. As the man watched this vexatious Elf that he longed to murder, he felt a deep and terrible rage burn in his heart. Notching his bow, he prepared to slay the councilor, but he did not want this Lord Erestor to die swiftly.

It had to be a painful death, a horrible death and only an arrow in his throat would suffice and cool his wrath.

Lord Erestor was not even aware that angry and vengeful eyes, thirsting for his blood were watching him. For the Elf had perceived that all in Rivendell was safe at the present. He had known that Beleg had been acting strangely and certainly had an air of a hidden evil. But he expected no trouble in Imladris and so he did stop to consider that because he had spoken against the strange Dúnadan, the man might want to end his life.

It was a good thing that Lord Glorfindel had come by, actually planing to send a scare into this stuck up, as he saw Erestor, and annoying Elf-lord. But the Gondolin Elf was a warrior and knew how to listen for the drawing of a bow so well that he could do it in his sleep. And his keen Elven ears picked up the sound of the creaking string as the arrow was notched and pulled along the man's cheekbone. The twisted ranger sported an evil smile on his face thinking of the counselor's blood bubbling on his lips as he choked on it.

But Glorfindel was not about to let that happen and guessing the intentions of whoever had the bow he looked madly for where the sound came from.

It did not take him long to find Beleg, in the rose bushes, waiting for the right moment to release the projectile. But having not other way to stop Erestor from getting shot, the Gondolin-lord raced forward and slammed into the dark-haired Elf. Both of the Elves tumbled to the ground rolling clear and the projectile whizzed overhead, hitting a tree and becoming embedded in the trunk.

Erestor had been furious, Glorfindel had been surprised and not the least it happy himself. So in the end Elrond banished Beleg from Rivendell under pain of death. Erestor could not really sleep well for two weeks after and Glorfindel actually felt sorry for the dark-haired adviser whom he still found perfectly annoying. But as Glorfindel and all the rest of Rivendell were trying to keep a teenage Ancú under control and teach him how to be a wise and sharp Elf, they forgot swiftly about the man named Beleg.

All the Elves but Erestor. But even in time it was shoved to the back of the adviser's mind and he forced himself to disregard the attempt on his life.

Then Beleg left in a rage, humiliated, totally dishonored and yet not willing to risk anymore for revenge other than the fact he was never more going to work towards the protection of Rivendell or her allies. He was going to do exactly the opposite and work against Rivendell.

He became a master of the hidden and darkened world. He first captured Caranfëa and though the Elf was a challenge, he gradually got the immoral to respect him enough not to fight him all the time. But Caranfëa still was a handful, even for a Dark Dúnadan to handle. Caranfëa was fearless and he would still fight and work against King in little ways. The once ranger had done everything to try and break the small Elf but it was impossible. The more he did, the more the fireball of a being seemed to gather strength.

It wasn't that he believed Elves should be his slaves, he just knew it was a great insult in the eyes of Rivendell and he always tried to insure that Lord Elrond knew what fate had taken his missing Elves and kept the captives just out of reach. It was a cat and mouse game that he hated and loved with a passion.

He would later slay the Elves if he grew bored with them or they tired him. However, he was not going to kill Caranfëa, for he was the Son of the Captain of the Guard of all of Mirkwood and that was of value. Now that he knew he had the Son of Thranduil the man smiled wickedly. His collection was certainly growing pleasurably in value. Now he had two Elves of great worth. But there was one Elf that still was hidden away somewhere here in these very mines. If he found the Elf before Calmir, then he would have even more.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>

She loved him and she might never have another chance to fall in love again. That was what the maiden thought as she stood by the door pondering whether to go in and run away. But how could she do that and abandon the Elf that had asked her to _marry_ him!

Leaving wouldn't make her troubles and decisions leave her. She would have to deal with them.

Elméra opened the door and saw Rothinzil staggering up. He had gotten the furs and cloaks off and was trying to remain on his feet. She placed a hand over her mouth and said, "Roth! You idiot!"

He jumped and his face bore the look of one genuinely surprised, topped with a dropped jaw and said, "I am going to try and get Legolas free." The Elf was reeling as he attempted to walk a few feet. It felt like his insides were turned inside out and he swayed, clutching at the air.

Finding her feet could actually move, the maiden moved across the space between her and the Elf quickly before he fell over. She grabbed his arm and steadied him, looking up at him with knitted brows and narrowed eyes. "You can barely walk," she protested to the immortal with an urgent adamancy lacing her voice.

"I can't help that. It is my duty to try and save my liege and friend," argued Rothinzil back. "And speaking of which, why would you care? You already walked out on me, what made you come back?" he snapped, being harsh for the first time in his life.

She licked her lips and bit the bottom one nervously before speaking. "I...love you Roth." She dropped her eyes as she held onto his arm and felt his muscles go tense as he realized what she had just said. He stopped moving and seemed frozen. Oddly enough with the cold weather, he wasn't.

"You changed your mind?" he asked incredulously, but unable to hide his happiness. He looked her and watched as she looked up at hm.

"For you, I did," she said quietly. "But suppose your sovereign is dead…" she asked. The maiden really did not want her Elf to get himself captured and really she didn't want the highly more likely prospect of him being killed or tortured. She knew that they would not kill him quickly.

"Then I must go and find what I will," he answered sourly and began to walk shakily towards the door. His muscles began to regain their memory of what it is like to walk and he felt them working loose their cramps and gathering strength. But she still clutched his arm tightly and he sighed before remarking, "help me or stay out of my way, please," he added.

She held very still for a moment and an uneasy, silence passed between them. The only noises were the sounds of Rothinzil and her breathing. Everything else was eerily still and the darkness even seemed to grow for a brief time. "What do you want me to do?" she asked in a whisper, looking up at him with trusting eyes.

"Keep me from being found as long as possible. But do not risk too much. I don't want you killed," he responded straightforwardly.

She smiled and said, "touching, but we both are going to be risking a lot, whether we admit it or not." Then she saw his wound and even though it had stitches and was sutured up quite well, if she might think so herself, she wanted to make certain that it would not reopen. "Sit," she commanded firmly and tugged on his arm.

He saw the strange look in her eyes that stated she was about to do something that he was not going to like or was not going to agree with in the least. He didn't comply right away, but cocked his head to the side and looked at her with a face that asked if what she was about to do was entirely necessary to his well being. She crossed her arms and stared at him until he sank onto the edge of a crate and she smiled slowly. "Hold your arms out," she held hers out as an example for him to follow.

Roth reluctantly stuck his arms out and asked sarcastically, "so are you going to tickle me to death, or what?" She smiled and looked thoughtful for a moment.

"If you don't quit complaining," she teased mildly as she gingerly set her hands on his wound and Roth resisted the urge to withdraw and chuckle.

She was feeling to see if an infection was setting in. However, it looked and felt to her that none was, for his skin was warm, but not hot and red, but not inflamed. She said in a spoofing voice, "well Rothinzil the warrior, you seem to be healing up well. Are you ready to go and gather more such battle scars?"

"Well, I can see your expectations are high," he mumbled under his breath and he looked at her curiously as the maiden began to tear her dress some more and was making some makeshift bandages. She said, "keep your arms up and hold still."

Rothinzil just rolled his eyes before muttering, "the healers at home give Legolas and Estel less trouble." She laughed as she began to wrap the cloth around his middle to cover the wound.

"If they can find you," Elméra snorted and proceeded to wrap another strip of white linen from her dress around the wound to pad it. He looked at her with a face that had _how do you know, _written all over it. She sighed and then shrugged, "the way you squirm like baby every time the bandage touches your wound its sort of obvious."

"That is it! If all you can do is insult me, I might as well leave right now!" he said and began to get up. Elméra didn't let go of the bandage that was half way about his lean middle and she just glared up at him. So with an exasperated sigh, he sat back down on the edge of the wooden box and allowed her to finish.

When the bandaging was complete he stood up slowly and turned around and around as he felt the comfort of warm cloth around his abdomen. But he heard her cry out with a gasp, "Rothinzil!" He spun around to face her and she said in a murmur, "what ever happened to your back?"

She stood up from where she had been crouching on the floor and her finger traced the scabbed over welts from the beating he had taken earlier. Elméra felt her blood boil and she asked sharply, "who did this to you? How long ago was this?" Her eyes transformed into a look of a storm before it breaks upon the ocean. Her eyebrows pinched and she narrowed her eyes to slits as she looked into his face.

He said shortly, " Elméra, it was nothing. I was….it was….nothing important. I don't want to talk about it." He began to walk towards the door and she sidestepped him to get in front and glare up at him since he was about an inch taller.

She shrugged mentally and decided it might be better not to press the issue. She did not know Elves well, but had heard that they could be provoked to anger easily. She was not sure, but she did not want this Elf angry at her for more than one reason. More than two actually, now that she gave it some more thought.

Suddenly she said, "You can't go out there. Not yet, they will catch you and kill you before you are even near being able to get within a hundred yards of your friend."

Roth knew she had a point and he sighed. He was short of a tunic and wearing a woman's cloak. He would stand out like a sore thumb dyed purple. He spun back around and began to pace the room vigorously. He had thought he was going to be able to go and save Legolas. He thought he was going to get them out of here. Now his plans seemed cursed and unthinkable.

He must have been out of his mind! A temporary moment of insanity, the Elf inwardly fumed.

So involved with his pacing was Rothinzil that he didn't even realize when Elméra had placed a slender and white hand on his shoulder. She gave it a gentle squeeze and whispered in his ear as she halted his forward movement, "but I have a plan."

Roth looked at her with a twinkle in his eyes as he asked incredulously, "oh really?" She smiled slowly as he shook his head in doubt.

"I am going to need to leave you here for no more than a day," she said with a frown. "You regain your strength and rest. I will try and snag you some food and such but the other is a bit more important."

"What in the Valar are you talking about?" he asked crossly and in bewilderment.

"I am going to go and pay my brother a visit. I am going to try and get a cloak of his and a spare tunic if I can. They may be a bit big on you unless your height makes up for his mass."

Rothinzil said in a commanding tone. More commanding than he had ever used in his life, "No. You can't. It is far too dangerous. I heard you out there, you fooled him. If he gets a hold of you, he will kill you or worse. Don't think he won't!"

She gave him a cold look and said, "he is my brother Rothinzil, dear, and he may want to hurt me, but he wouldn't do it. I don't think anyway. I have to risk it. If not you get to go in a bright red cloak, without a tunic, your point ears revealed…."

"I get the point. Miss Elméra," said Roth flatly as she crossed her arms.

"A perfect catch for my brother to make or that man King. All the people of the mine are out looking for you. Do you honestly think someone who is unlike myself wearing bright red will go unnoticed?" she asked firmly as the eyed the Elf before her, who was looking at the floor.

"I don't want to put you into any danger, young lady," answered the Elf as he met her gaze. "It would be a burden I could not bear if something evil were to befall you."

"I had a thirst for danger when I saved your life," she said wryly. "I am in the same place you are right now. If you do not get out, then neither shall I." Her voice was bitter and she suddenly snapped, "I love you Rothinzil, but helping you at the moment is a little beyond love, alright?"

He narrowed his eyes as she turned her back to him and began to make her way to the door. "If you like I can get you out of this. If I give myself up, they will not care about…."

"'You'?" she finished lamely, "Is that the word you were going to use?" she asked as she spun around her red hair wrapped around her neck and her jaw tightened. "No. You still don't understand! He would kill me anyway, because that is how he is, because I know that there is something more to these mines now. And," her voice squeezed off as she muttered, "I know he killed our father." She didn't know how or why, but she knew that was how it happened.

Her lean form began to shake as she broke down. Tears rolled down her cheeks and her forehead wrinkled as Elméra's whole face contorted in sorrow. Roth did not know what to do and he went and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. The maiden hugged against the Elf and he said, "I won't leave here without you then." Casting a dark glance at the door, he said defiantly, "and I won't leave without Legolas either."

Pushing away, Elméra shook her head, "you are the sweetest Elf I have ever seen or met…."

"I am the only one," chided Roth gently.

Here he managed to make her smile, but it was empty. "But I have to go now and no matter what happens, do not come after me. I will be back as soon as I can. I do not know when I will be back." She looked him in the eye and said, "if I am not back in a day, go after Legolas and then leave."

Rothinzil winced and said, "I really wish you wouldn't do this!"

She just shook her head. "We need weapons, food, and you need a disguiseor something to wear regardless of whether is will help conceal your pointy ears. Leggings are not enough. Sorry," she finished abruptly and with a slight smile creeping onto her face.

Rothinzil just let his lips pull into a smile and said, "all right. I won't argue anymore," he didn't have the time and neitherdidLegolas,"but be careful, please?" he asked nervously.

Elméra said, "always." Then she turned from him, opened the door and stepped out. Rothinzil wished he was going with her, but he had faith in this maiden. She seemed strong, like an Elf-maiden. Now he began to wonder how he was going to pass the time until she came back.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Aragorn glared at the empty mug with dark eyes. He was not amused in the least. He had been forced to drink all the tea and on top of that everyone had to stare in amazement at him. Lord Ryxen had come in astounded that the young man had survived the normally lethal poison at all and that his shoulder wound was patching up so well.

Aragorn felt like looking at all of them and saying 'boo" just to see if they would jump. He was so tempted that the word formed on his lips and he had to force it to dissipate with the logic that Erestor would be livid and be hard to travel with (more so than he was) and that would not help their situation.

"I am glad you made it through the venom Master Estel," spoke the elderly man with a smile on his aged face. "Most don't. They die within a few weeks." His smile seemed somewhat hollow and Aragorn wondered if he was hiding something. It wasn't that Aragorn felt the man had much to hide, but he was still a bit skeptical as to whether or not he was being told the whole story.

"Is there something I should know Lord Ryxen?" asked the young human, raising a brow and staring at the other unerringly.

Ryxen looked at the Elves, who too had turned eyes upon him now. Coughing he said, "you still aren't out of the woods and won't be for another ten years." If Lord Ryxen had been looking for a good way to make everyone's jaw drop at one, he had found it. All but himself were gapping and Aragorn blinked in shock.

"Excuse me?" he asked, bewildered. Shaking his head, he said, "I just don't follow." He stopped shaking his head abruptly as he realized how much that was a pain to his already dully-throbbing head.

Erestor eyed the magistrate of the town darkly as though the man carried the plague. Glorfindel just looked hard at Aragorn and then shifted his piercing gaze upon the unfortunate lord among men. "What," he snapped thickly, "do you ever mean by 'ten years'?" His jaw snapped shut as his muscles tightened and he tried in vain to loosen them realizing that grinding his teeth was not healthy.

Lord Ryxen said in a troubled voice, "I suppose I should have told you all sooner. But I was afraid you would lose hope, which is what primarily got him through, you see."

"I see there is something important you left out," growled Erestor. "Stop this apologizing and tell me before it becomes my turn to apologize!" The counselor had never seemed so irate before unless he was chastising Lord Glorfindel over something very trivial and hardly worth the effort.

"Well," began Ryxen. "This poison will remain dormant for ten years and then dissolve. Until then you are going to be constantly running the risk of triggering the venom again, and it will show itself far worse than before."

"How then is it triggered?" asked Glorfindel quickly. His eyes flashed.

"I do not rightly know," answered the man quickly. "We have never had anyone survive it past the first re-triggering of the poison." He suddenly went white and said, "I am sorry, I shouldn't have said that. But it is the truth you see?"

Aragorn spoke softly and said, "that is well Lord Ryxen. I had to know and I would rather know than live in uncertainty. There is a saying, 'know thy enemy'." He looked at Erestor, who was pacing the room rapidly and muttering to himself all that he had been told, as though trying to make the situation sink in.

"Is there no sure?" snapped the counselor abruptly. He was not in the mood for all the diplomatic talk that he usually took careful pride in speaking with. There was no time for small talk. He needed the facts and he needed them now.

"Lord Erestor, if there is it is beyond me. Perhaps it lies in the power of the Elves. I know not," the man admitted truthfully. He shook his head and said, "I am truly sorry for all you and your friends have gone and are going through. But you must understand I am doing all I can. I have to look after the well being of the town and that is my job first."

Glorfindel nodded and said, "well anything you can do is greatly appreciated." Erestor just looked annoyed, angry and frustrated to boot. He said nothing for fear it would be very brash. He just crossed his arms and ground his teeth.

"Lord Erestor, you mentioned a map?" asked the older man, trying to make amends with the Elves that seemed to be incensed with worry.

The dark-haired counselor spoke gruffly, "I did. Could you enlighten me about it?" He handed the map to Ryxen and watched with war eyes as it was opened and the creases smoothed. This part made Erestor wince. He was very particular about his maps. A crease was not acceptable and he expected the same from everyone who shared his maps, including Glorfindel. Glorfindel honestly tried to respect the other Elf-lord's wishes and he really knew that it was one of Erestor's total pet peeves. He knew that it would set the dark-haired adviser off and then he would never hear the end of it. He had that experience once before.

As Ryxen eyed the map with narrowed eyes, he rubbed his chin thoughtfully before saying in a quivering voice, "where did you find this?" He shook the map before Erestor's nose and the counselor rolled his eyes with annoyance.

"It was in the red book," said Aragorn as he narrowed his eyes. "And please show Erestor a little more respect. Even if he is a bit stiff necked," added the ranger in an effort to keep Erestor's self-assurance down enough he wouldn't seem to offensive. The black-haired adviser glared daggers at his lord's son before turning his attention back to the map and the Lord of Farlost.

Glorfindel just snickered quietly and when Erestor turned his dark scowl upon the golden-haired Elf, Glorfindel stopped and put on a serious face. "So what is it a map of?" he asked without warning.

"Well," said Ryxen. "I would have to say that I am not one-hundred percent certain. I think it is one of the new mines. They were thought to have been collapsed years ago from an orc attack and we closed all the other mining facilities because of the orc attacks on the townspeople."

"So is the map genuine? Would it be accurate enough for us to use in rescuing our friends?" asked Erestor as he looked over the older human's shoulder. Ryxen looked at the Elf and walked forward a few steps before corresponding with an unsure voice.

"I suppose it might. But if you are going to go after your friends, you may need to wait until spring. I know you won't want to of course," he put up a hand to hold the silence of the room as the Elves and ranger's jaws all dropped simultaneously. "I realize what your feelings are. But you have to understand. It is down right lethal out there in winter. It has yet to get worse."

"We understand," said Aragorn urgently. "But my best friends are out there, for all I know they could be dying or in horrible agony. We are leaving tomorrow. I can't stand being here another minute." The Elves and older man looked at the ranger as though he had just spoken in the Dwarven tongue and suggested that they all take tea with a band of despicable orcs. "The fresh air will do me good," he argued and winced as he felt a fiery reminder in his shoulder that it might be a good idea to rest a day longer at least. But Legolas and Rothinzil might not have another day.

"I understand your urgency," the man responded calmly and he folded the map again, much to Erestor's dismay. "Apparently you do not understand mine." He sighed and drubbed his temples with a weary hand. "I have been there and know what fear is all about. I was in Lake Town when the Dragon Smaug was killed but not before he set fire to the town. One of my sons turned up missing and I was dreadfully sick with worry for days. Oh, I know what pain is all about. But this weather is unpredictable."

But as he looked into the fiery gray eyes of the young and determined man before him he could not argue further. The glow of Aragorn's eyes told him that it would all be in vain and he had an odd feeling that the golden-haired Elf sided with the adolescent ranger. "I will try to get what supplies I can gathered for you and ready for morning. But you only have a few hours sleep. It would be far more wise to wait a day longer."

Erestor nodded in agreement and Glorfindel shook his head. "We will leave in the morning."

Aragorn seemed to look so excited Glorfindel knew the young mortal would never get to sleep.

"You have our deepest thanks," said Erestor with a slight bow. He received the map back from Ryxen and slipped it into his pocket, for it was not very large…when it was folded, he told himself as an after thought.

Ryxen sighed and said, "when are you going to depart?"

"At first light," answered Glorfindel for Erestor, who was trying to time everything out. The counselor just nodded slowly and placed his hand in his pocket and fingered the map.

After Ryxen had left, Aragorn yawned and Glorfindel said, "you had better get _some_ sleep. I know how grumpy your kind is traveling on two hours worth!" He glanced at Erestor and whispered to the human in a light tone, "do I not have enough to deal with?"

Erestor said in a sigh, "I am going to bed as well. You should too Glorfindel," concluded the dark-haired Elf with a suppressed yawn as he made his way across the space that was between him and the door.

Glorfindel watched Erestor leave and was about to leave him when Aragorn said, "I will find no rest here. Not when Legolas is out in the cold and Roth is with him. Who know what they are going through?"

Glorfindel went and stood by Estel and looked down with a frown. "Legolas will be well. He has a knack for seeing his way through things and if Roth is anything like him, he will too." The Gondolin Elf smiled slowly and muttered, "wait until the healers have to clean up after this little escapade. They will be incensed."

"So will Ada," mumbled Aragorn into the sheets as he rolled over onto his stomach and pulled the covers over his head so Glorfindel could not see that he was ready to cry.

The knowledge that his friends were suffering anguish while he slept in bed was to much and he didn't want his father's friend to see how weak he felt…how weak he was. He didn't feel strong. He missed Legolas and Rothinzil as though they were already dead.

He wished that one of them were here so he could cry into his shoulder. He remembered one time when he had thought that Elladan was dead after he didn't return from a hunting trip. Elrohir stayed out to look for him, but Aragorn was sent in because it was late and he was not over eighteen so Elrond concluded he needed to remain in doors after dark with orcs prowling about.

Legolas had been injured and he provided a shoulder to cry on and he had let his grief stream from his eyes into the Prince's shoulder.

Now he wasn't here and Aragorn felt so lonely. If Legolas was safe at home and Aragorn knew things were well he wouldn't be upset in the least, because he knew that he would see his friend again eventually. Now he wasn't so sure.

A tear ran down the ranger's cheek, a single tear as he thought of the condition Legolas had been in before they had left. What made his anger burn even more is that Legolas and Roth had stayed to help the town's folk get their horses back and help them patch their lives. They had done more than give their sympathies and now all Aragorn was getting was promises and advice and a place to stay but no action to help with a rescue. What was really ironic was that he hardly knew his way around here and they did, yet they still were not willing to help.

Stubborn idiots, he scorned in his mind. They stilled feared Elves so much that they afraid to try and save a few whom had risked and maybe forbore their lives to help them.

Elrond would be furious, that was never more true, sulked Glorfindel as he stood by the fire. And especially when he heard that Aragorn had a poison living in him that could kill him at any given moment or send him into a coma for life.

If only he had not allowed Aragorn to go and try to help Legolas and Rothinzil, who seemed to have been doomed from the start. He should have known better and acted better. He should have gone himself. He had failed his responsibility to take the twins and Estel home.

Glorfindel finally decided to go to bed in one of the bunks of the room that Erestor had claimed for his own. He didn't want to be alone, thinking of Elrond's wrath and of the pain of his lord's son that was dearly treasured.

As Aragorn lie awake beneath the blankets, listening to the golden-haired lord leave, heard the door open and close. Knowing that Glorfindel was gone, Aragorn waited until he heard a second door shut, signing that Glorfindel was in the room to be shared by he and Erestor. Then, the ranger lifted off the covers and gritting his teeth, tried to rise.

He felt thrilling pain stab his shoulder and neck. After several tries, the human was out of bed and shivering as he stood on the wooden floor.

He opened the door to his room and went out into the dark and abandoned hall of the cozy home. It was eerie, but he loved it. It was darkness and no one could see his pained face as he wished he was in Legolas and Rothinzil's place, because not knowing was far worse than being there.

He followed the hallway to the main living room and discovered a window that would let him see the stars. He wondered if Legolas was looking at the same stars or if he was lost to the light. He wondered if Legolas was with the stars, so to speak. The thought that his friend might be in Mandos' Halls was a heavy weight upon his shoulders and he stared through the glass pain at the blue star Helluin with sorrow weary eyes.

>>>>>>>>>>

Celebalda stood on a large stone, over looking the last few miles that lay between them and the Anduin River. Thalionril stood by his side, his hand stroking the bracelet that his love and Celebalda's daughter had given to him. The wind, an icy blur form the East whipped his dark-hair into his face and he brushed it aside with his hand. "Would you estimate one more day?" he asked Celebalda in a soft voice.

"To get to the river's banks?" Celebalda inquired as to the question's nature. "I should think. Certainly no less." He flicked some of his own dark hair from where the wind's gusts had it plastered to his face and neck. "I don't know how we are going to cross it."

His hands ran along his bow string as he fingered it thoughtfully, recalling how cold weather would make it stiff and hard to be used at times. It could even snap in this kind of weather. That was not a thought that was far from his mind at the moment. He perceived that he would need that bow before the end.

Thalionril sighed and said, "won't you come and sing around the fire with us? It will stave off the sorrow and chill of this bleak weather and outlook. You should relax," summed up the younger Elf with a frown. "I am sure this frequent anxiety is not doing any wonders for your health or the morale of the others."

Celebalda sighed and answered slowly, "I can't help it. If I didn't worry about our safety, who would?" He shouldered his bow in addition to dismounting the large boulder and landing lightly onto the ground, bending his knees to absorb the impact.

Thalionril stared down at his superior and friend. "You know," he began, "we all look out for each other. If something happened to one, we would gladly avenge his death to the bitter ending of our own lives." The younger Elf leaped down and landed lightly at Celebalda's side.

"I know that. But it is my responsibility as captain, to look after you and the others," answered the elder Elf swiftly. He moaned, "I have a horrible feeling, not unlike the one I had when we were attacked by orcs on that moonless night, do you remember?" he asked as he pulled the memory forward reluctantly. "We lost several Elves and I swore I would never let it happen again."

Thalionril nodded, "I could not ever forget, but there was naught that you could do and they died in battle. You did not kill them, you did not leave them behind. They were called away from us, not us from them."

They began to walk near the fires and Celebalda stopped and said, "we are a merry folk and I work so hard to try and keep it that way. If I don't help protect everyone and keep them safe, how can anyone at home relax enough to be merry and dance beneath the beeches under the light of the sickle moon?" He shook his head.

A hand came to rest on his shoulder as Thalionril said, "we protect each other and watch each others' backs. No one is alone. That is why we are so "merry". We also share not the troubles men do. You know this." The younger Elf gave his older friend and captain's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Get some rest. Come and drink with me."

"Very well, but I really would rather not my wits be muddled so quickly," he added as they came to the circle of firelight.

A sweet music drifted around and the five companions were singing. But as their captain and friend came they dropped their merry and yet sorrowful song and asked, "is everything alright, my lord? If so, drink and be merry. You draw far too many troubles upon yourself. Don't you know they will find you anyway?"

**TBC…………………Review please! **

**Review Responses :-)**

**Deana:** Well, soon would be nice. Not going to happen though. LOL We are having too much fun! Thanks for the review! :-)

**lil cwick:** Yay! New reviewer! Thank you! :-)

**Astievia:** Hey! Yes, long time no 'see'! LOL Yeah, we know what you mean and that's fine. Totally understand. 80 degrees? Thats too hot! LOL Nope, we didn't kill anyone, yet. We tried.Thanks for the review. :-)

**Galadryal:** Awww....another Rothinzil fan. Actually, he was modled after Celeb's ability to walk into doors.LOL Yeah, life can really be a pain that way. You never get enough time. Thanks for the review! :-)

**Nefhiriel:** Of course we said something about horrible ranger angst. But you will have to wait for a few more chapters. Sorry. But there will be plenty of Elf-angst. Thanks for the review. :-)


	18. No Honor Among Thieves

**Sorry this chapter was so late. **_-Insert sheepish grins-_** We honestly wished to post it Friday but it was impossible. School caught up with us and we had papers to write and projects to do. Then we found a mistake and had to re-write the last portion of the chapter. So, enough of our rambling:-) **

**On with the chapter! Hope you enjoy! **

_**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**_

_No Honor Among Thieves _

"Get up little prince, or is that all you can do?" asked King as he sneered down at Legolas, who lay doubled over with his arms across his stomach, his head bowed. It was evening and King had decided to see if Legolas was fit to fight for the following day.

The prince looked up and growled, "that is all I am going to do for you." King snorted and placed the toe of his leather boot under Legolas' chin then twitched it, bringing Legolas' gaze up to meet his. But that lasted only a brief second, before he caught the prince in the side of the ribs with his boot and flipped the immortal onto his side from where he had been lying painfully on his chest. That wound was still painful.

"You are worthless!" he laughed as he drew his real sword and placed the tip of it against Legolas' throat, applying a fair amount of pressure. "You are worthless, except for one fact that keeps you alive. You are the prince of Mirkwood." Withdrawing his sword, the man chuckled coldly before saying in a flat voice that abruptly cut off his mirth, "you tire me Elf. And if not for your identity, I would kill you. But because you are royal, I am willing to give you some more chances."

"I don't want your charity, King, "spat Legolas back as though he was a snake spitting venom. Anger blazed in his eyes, rising from his pride. King

King pressed the blade a little further and laughed as he said, "tomorrow you are going to fight." Whipping the edge of the sharp weapon back as he spoke and sheathing it, the man continued, "I expect you to win. If you win, you will be given a tunic and cloak to keep you a little warmer at night, for they grow colder and more lethal. If not, however, you will receive not a drop of water and no food. Then, when I find our friend, for I intend to before Calmir so that I might be able to spare him and turn him into something, then I shall have to kill him slowly in your presence so that you can hear his pitiful screams."

Legolas felt the color drain from his face. He could gamble with his own life in matters such as this, but to place Rothinzil's on the line was unthinkable and totally out of the question. Even though he knew Roth would place on a brave and as a matter of fact, totally fearless face, on things, he could not bear to see his friend die thus. For like all of his kind save a few, he way to weaken Legolas, was to put a friend or an innocent living creature in sheer agony with his ears and mind having no refuge from its cries.

King noticed the change that over came the Elf and inquired with a raised brow, "so I am understood?" He smiled, "that bodes well with both of us. But before I put you back into your cell to rest and think about tomorrow night I want to know something of you."

Legolas glared, "what is it that you do not know already. You know my name, my weaknesses, what is there left?" he questioned with a biting look.

King circled around the Elf that was now kneeling on the floor and getting ready to rise. "I want to know who all is going to be coming after you. You are the prince, so therefore I doubt that your father or any in Mirkwood, would let your lack of presence go unnoticed and unattended to." He stopped his pacing around the Elf and whispered, "I want to give them a royal welcome to my humble kingdom."

Legolas said, "I do not know." This was the truth, though he did not expect it to be believed.

Indeed, it was not.

"Don't lie to me, my little prince. It can make horrible things suddenly happen to those who you care most about," prodded the man and he watched, rocking back on his heels, as the blonde being before him drew a haggard breath before standing up.

"I really can't tell you. I do not know. It is a time of festivity among my people. You should know that. Dark Dúnadan," he hissed the slur resentfully.

King said, "lets look at it is this way Legolas," he narrowed his eyes and got up into the prince's face, pulling the Elf closer by a lock of hair, "if I can't capture them alive when they come for you, then their souls shall have to visit Mandos. Am I clear?"

"You would kill them?" asked Legolas, hardly realizing the obvious stupidity of his question until he had already opened his mouth. Inwardly slapping himself, the blonde Elf looked at King with unflinching eyes.

"That is the general meaning of my statement. If you want to know how I can tell you that too," he voiced with an evil grin. Legolas just shuddered as he felt panic rising his heart. He did not want to see his friends dead. He knew Aragorn was coming for him and he knew Elves out of Rivendell had to coming to look for the ranger. Most likely Glorfindel leading them.

"It has vaguely something to do with an arrow being placed in each of their immortal hearts," he said with a brief wave of his hand. He released Legolas from his grip and asked as he cracked his knuckles, "so how many cages should I prepare for my guests?"

Legolas wrinkled his brow in hard thought. He did not want to sell his friends' freedom, but he didn't want them to pay for his stubbornness with their lives. He knew that a life in a cage was far from merciful to them, but then they still had a chance at life. Involuntarily his lips moved and he spoke before he could snap his mouth shut.

"Around ten you think?" asked King. He shrugged. "Less than I imagined, but of course if there isn't enough I can always just get rid of some of them, after all the wargs are always hungry, something you should keep in mind."

"Why can't you just let them go?" asked the prince. "I would be willing to do whatever you wanted if only you would not kill them."

"Ah, Elven loyalty. Renown among the races of Middle Earth. How touching. But if I let them live, they can lead an army here and send my underground little world into ruins. I have to look after the well being of my people, do I not?" He finished with a sigh, "Which is why I am entering you into the fight. They want to see some new blood spilled and seeing how your stitches are holding, you should have no problem in there."

Legolas snapped, "you can't just kill them! This is unfair!" he growled as King placed the manacles back on Legolas' wrists and jerked them harshly to make sure that they were firmly in place before he began to guide the captive towards the door out of the room where he trained his fighters.

"Sorry, I have to get the traps and such prepared. Feel free to consult me afterwards." Legolas dug his heels into the ground and held his ground. "If you win tomorrow night, I might reconsider it."

He yanked painfully on the manacles that were clamped painfully tight on the prisoner's wrists, lurching the now chained Elf forward.

Legolas' glare deepened and in a moment, he had stopped them from moving again by placing his feet against a random rock that they would have to go around. The man came back and his eyes were now hard and had a look of flint and steel such as the prince had never seen before. Legolas now had to question whether resisting the man had been an intelligent decision.

"I consider myself reasonable towards prisoners and their constant resistance. But you have stepped over the line Prince Legolas." He spat the name and title at the Elf in a vicious way that made the blonde being's stomach pitch.

Legolas began an inanimate back step, but was stopped by the chains on his wrists. Having no where to go, the Elf stopped and just watched the man with eyes that matched when it came to spitefulness and ice.

The Dark Dúnadan snarled, "You can go back to your cell whole or in pieces. I really don't want to hurt you, but I can if I have to in order to get a point across." He came closer and Legolas felt thrills of fear tickle his spine and the back of his neck with a cold and prickly sensation that made him feel numb. The man went on with his reasoning, "I do not need you to get more Elves to be my slaves. All they have to do is think you are alive and come down here to get killed or captured. It is that easy."

Legolas said nothing, but his fierce scowl was enough and King went at him in a blur of fists.

Normally Legolas could have gotten out of the way in time while delivering a few punches of his own. But he was so weakened by cold, hunger and the heaviness he felt on his heart not to mention weighed down by manacles, which were making more than half of the difference, that he was not able to block anything or defend himself.

The man used the chains as a grip to hold Legolas where he wanted to so he could get a good shot at his face and Legolas received a heavy blow in his jaw that made him wonder if it was broken. He let his head go to the side as the room swirled and images merged to create a living nightmare.

With a small rivulet of blood tracing down his chin in a bright red streak Legolas just met the human's incensed eyes with a look of you-know-you-can-never-break-me flashing in his own. _You my break my body, but you will never harm my spirit, traitor, _spoke the Elf in his mind.

King did not seem satisfied and dragging Legolas over to the rock wall, he slammed him against it ruthlessly. Legolas finally gave a slight cry of pain, but King was still displeased. Legolas had taken advantage of his kindness and patience, now he was reaping what he had sown.

Taking a lock of the loose golden-hair, the man used it as a painful handle to knock the back of Legolas' head into the wall.

Pain shot through the prince's awareness and he slid to the ground and down onto his knees before seeing everything alternating into darkness with stars and other odd shapes and colors swirling about. His eyes suddenly went back into his head and he went limp at the man's feet.

King frowned. He had not wanted to do that, but Legolas had asked for it.

Picking up the Elf, he went ahead and carried him to his cell and placed him inside upon the blanket that made up a bed for the prisoner.

Caranfëa looked on and he leaped up when he saw Legolas was limp. "What did you do!" fumed the smaller Elf angrily as he grasped the bars of his own cell so tightly that his knuckles were white. His eyes were narrow and dark except for a faint green glow of utter loathing.

King regarded him with scorn as he stepped out of the small dungeon. "I taught him a lesson, Caranfëa. One that I hope he will be smart enough to learn, unlike you." And with that he slammed to door to the prison shut and locked it so that Legolas could not get out once he awoke. He looked at the small immortal as he asked, "oh, I almost forgot to ask if you were hungry! Too bad you can't eat."

With that he left the rows of cages where the Elves and animals were kept.

After walking down a maze of passageways, he entered a main room, where there were many men all talking and taking a break from the mines where they tried to earn extra money aside from the use of the arena fighters.

Calmir came up to him and when he spoke it was in a slurred voice that more than anything showed he had consumed one drink too many, or perhaps a couple too many. "You are going down tomorrow King of nothing!" The drunken man laughed and put an arm around King's shoulder.

King shrugged the arm off and said crossly, "we shall see. Now I need to talk about more pressing matters." He pulled the younger man before him and said, "there are going to be more Elves coming. If we are careful we can take them by surprise and capture them all. I am expecting them to be warriors, just what we need."

Calmir shook his head, "Elves won't venture into caves."

'If we have their prince they sure will and then we will see what kind of welcome we can work up."

Calmir did obviously not understand anything being said and he laughed. King rolled his eyes in frustration. If he wanted something done, he had to do it himself.

Suddenly a man came up and said, "we found something you should see."

King raised a hand to silence them and said, "but I am busy."

"It will be to your benefit, sir." The man eyed his superior with a frown.

"Very well, lead the way Haddag," came King's harsh reply.

After going through more dark and newly created passageways Haddag halted the older human with an out thrust arm. "Be very careful," he whispered carefully. Then handing King a sputtering torch, he murmured, "look down there, but take care not to cast yourself into it." As King looked at the other strangely, he found it even more odd that he heard strange noises like skin sliding over sandpaper and out of place hisses in the thick, dark air.

The Dark Dúnadan knitted his brow and taking the firebrand peered into the vault. What he saw was enough to make his spirits rise and his ambition seemed to grow.

It was a reptilian refuge for the winter. There were all varieties of snakes down in the vault, hungry and restless. A constant slithering sound could be heard and hisses were evoked as the light spilled onto the creatures that had dwelled in darkness for so long.

The vault was deep, about ten feet and the snakes covered the bottom so thickly that you could not see the dirt or what ever was at the depths. Smiling, the man said, "I think I have found what I have been looking for."

He drew a deep breath to commemorate his victory, but then he stopped and coughed. There was horrid stench, like thousands of dragons and orcs put together. Spluttering, he kicked a stone over the edge and watched in amazement as it plunged through the snakes and he heard a soft splash as it seemed to hit water.

It was then he realized that they were living on each other. The snakes were in an under ground water supply and were living on top of over ten score of dead bodies, frozen corpses of other snakes that were slowly decomposing sending a wreak up for the heavens to remember.

If he had been looking for the best place to torment a victim psychologically he had certainly found it. Of course they might not live long, but that was why he was going to wait until he did not need them any more.

Haddag looked at him with a grin and said, "I told you, you would like it."

"Oh I do indeed." His voice was murmur and he stared down at the snakes with an expression of delight flashing across his features. "Haddag, you lost your beast in The Pit as I last recall, did you not?"

"Yes, the damn thing just died on me," he spat into the snake lair, and they seemed to hiss back. He wondered if they could talk what they would be saying. The thought made him shiver.

"How would you like to have an Elf or two?" asked King casually as though it was normal to talk of tormenting and imprisoning Elves for ones evil uses. He looked at the younger man with a charming smile that seemed nearly kind.

"Would I!" exclaimed the other. He looked at King with a wrinkled brow that was plainly a sign of his doubt . "How can you offer me such? Do they plan to come willingly to their enslavement?" He highly doubted this and his tone was more than skeptical.

"Haddag, they are coming willingly, believe it or not. They come for that which I have. All we have to do is get them set into bonds before they know what is befallen them." King smiled seemed to get brighter and he chuckled airily to himself.

"Do you have any suggestions?" asked Haddag somewhat crossly. King had to be joking. "I mean as to how we can do that?"

"Yes," he answered slyly. "But we will not speak of such things here. Even walls can sometimes have ears." Haddag rolled his eyes and yet he submitted himself to being lead out and told about the plans.

He doubted that anyone as around who would care to try and listen in on their conversation.

Meanwhile, back in the 'common room' as the men of the mines called it, for it was like an underground bar with the strongest liquor one could imagine, Elméra walked cautiously in. Her eyes darted abut as she looked for her brother.

He was in the middle of attention as usual, she sighed to herself. At least he was happily drunk and probably wouldn't recognize her.

Swiftly, she glided over to where he was and tapped his shoulder, "brother, dearest?" she asked in a soft voice. Then, for good measure, she batted her eyelashes innocently.

He turned onto her. "Sister! What are you doing here? Come to join the fun?" he asked incredulously. His eyes slid over her.

"Actually, you are sick brother. I have come to take you back to rest and fix you some hot tea." She placed a hand on his shoulder and he brushed it off.

"Am I?" he asked as he looked himself as though seeing what the problem was.

Oh yes, he was far from sober and that could be good or bad. Things could go from bad to worse and great to brilliant in a matter of a few seconds now. She rolled her eyes mentally at her brother's drunkenness and then said, swallowing down a mouthful of fear, "Yes, very. You are not yourself."

He smiled at her she just shook her head. "I think some sleep will do you good."

As she thought about it, it was getting on to evening. Soon the stars would be out and she wished she could see them. And, she thought to herself, seeing them while being wrapped in the comfort of Rothinzil would be much better.

She was so frightened and she wished he were with her. Elméra felt strangely safe when he held her close. It was kind of ironic that she had saved his life, but she wanted him to save hers.

"I am staying right here!" Calmir snarled in a commanding voice. He shoved her aside so hard that he stumbled against a table and her hand brushed against a candle's flame, burning it. She gave a hiss of pain and several men jumped up, surrounding Calmir with angry looks and clenched fists.

He had a made a large mistake of insulting and hurting a women and the only women present. There was no honor among thieves, but they had a code that they tried to follow.

Elméra stood up and brushed her dress off, watching as the men surrounded her brother.

He suddenly seemed more aware and less drunken and blithe. His eyes darted from man to man, taking in their anger towards him and when one said, "would you like to get as good as you give?" that was enough.

"G-G-G-G-Good-night….g-g-gentlemen," he told them in a slurred speech. Elméra went behind him to follow him out. He was finished for the night and was going to go home and rest.

She could feel her face turning red as she heard the men talking about her and her brother. They were talking about her family. It made her see red, but she managed to not burst out, "I can hear you, you idiots! Would you kindly shut-up?"

Once at the part of the mines that Calmir called his own, she walked in and her sharp eyes saw a trunk. That must have been where he kept his clothes. For certainly it would keep them dry and safe from most moths. He might even have some food and things in there that she could 'borrow'. It would actually be more of a payment for him making her life miserable, she rationalized.

Calmir went and fell upon the bed in a drunken stupor. He suddenly screeched, " Elméra! Where is that Elf! He wasn't there!" His intoxicated voice made her wince. He was still her brother, whom she had looked after since he was little and it still hurt her to see him thus, even when he had been so cruel to her, part of her still remembered him as a child.

She felt her heart leap into her throat and she whispered in a low answer, "where you will never find him." He didn't hear her, he was not meant to, but she gave no further answer.

Her brother continued to cackle himself to sleep, "When I find him (and I will) I will rip him apart and feed him to the wargs!" But his voice was becoming lower, though it was still rough and the tone alone would start a fight.

She still made no response. Perhaps he would forget she had been there. Then she might have a chance. His back was too her as he lay on his bed and she clutched at her heart, which seemed to be more than willing to leap out of her chest and go bouncing around the room. Her breath came in quick gulps that she was silently willing to steady; though they would not.

He continued to make threats even as sleepiness stole over him and his voice became no more than a whisper. She watched as his breathing became deep and long. He was going into a deep sleep.

Elméra took a ginger step forward and kept her eyes transfixed upon the ground, so as not to trip over a stone and risk waking him.

The trunk was only feet away. She could make it that far. Rothinzil was counting on her. If she didn't do this, she could not very easily return to him. She would rather runaway and die.

After steps that seemed to take forever, she reached the box and found that it was closed, but there was no lock. Smiling at her luck, the maiden placed a spare hand on the lid and found her hands to be shaking. Cursing her fear, she began to tediously lift the heavy lid.

It was heavy; her luck had not been _that_ good.

But once the lid was up minutes later, she found what she had sought. There were old cloaks and tunics along with knives of various assortments. The knives she could look at later, now she was interested in the garments.

They were slightly worn, but the dust that covered them said he didn't use them more than once in ten years, she told herself with a roll of her eyes. Taking out a cloak, she set it on the ground and then looked through it for tunics. There were several, but almost all concerned had a bloodstain or some other thing wrong with them. Like a gaping tear from a brawl or other. Really, he had to learn to take better care of his clothes and himself, she told herself mentally as an after thought.

He always seemed to be trying to compensate for something, like height and brains, she thought scornfully. Elméra knew that all the fights he got into were to make him look bigger and smarter than he really was. He could plan an evil deed, but when it came to true wisdom, he was at a total loss.

One tunic was still in reasonable condition and it looked like it would work. All though, if she were Rothinzil she would much rather freeze than wear something of the like. But what choices did they have? None other than this and so she set the tunic on top of the cloak.

As the maiden glanced through the trunk one more time she decided that Roth might want a weapon. His sword and bow were long ago taken and a weapon just might come in handy.

There were three knives that she saw. They were all wicked looking and might have well been orc make. But there was one, in the corner that was not. It looked Elven and as she gazed in further she saw that it was. And she noticed that there were more with it.

She had found Rothinzil and Legolas' knives. Of course their bows were hidden somewhere. But she was not going to press her luck and look for those. They were probably under the small inadequate mattress that served as the bed and that was out of the question.

Reaching in she pulled out a long single knife with an oak hilt that was etched with silver and gold in drawings of birds and other beasts of the forest. It was beautiful and she felt her breath stolen away as she looked at it. Elves were beautiful themselves, but their crafts were amazing.

Drawing it from it's sheath, she saw it glitter like silver and it seemed to sing as it was pulled form it's sheath with the joy at being free and being able to avenge its master. Worried she might damage it, she slid it back into its sheath and put it by the tunic and cloak.

Next she saw a pair of twin blades, white handled and with a faint glow about them.

They were so rich and beautiful she guessed right away that they had to be the blonde Elf's…Legolas' blades. He was a prince from what she had heard Roth say and she assumed that these weapons had been made for him along ago.

She looked through the trunk swiftly for any more, but found nothing that she would want to take.

Having the feeling that she was pressing her luck, the woman closed the lid as quietly as possible and then unwrapped the tunic once more and set the Elven weapons into it before wrapping and folding it up once more.

Calmir would be waking soon and once he discovered that the weapons were missing the war would be on. He would come after her with all he had, knowing she was harboring the Elf.

For that reason she wanted to leave now and be as far away as possible before he woke up.

However, as she stood up and cast one more look upon the trunk she realized that her hands prints wee all over it in the dust. To wipe it all away would draw his attention even more. She was marked more or less for him to hunt out.

Her heart racing, Elméra quickly left the room and found herself alone in the hallway, or at least she hoped she was. Night was upon them now.

Aragorn shifted his weight on top of the horse he was riding. The silvery beast snorted and pawed the snow uneasily. It sensed the ranger's discomfort and was trying, being the Elven horse it was, to understand the urgency the human was showing in how he rode.

"Your leg is touching mine! Stop it!" snapped Erestor abruptly from where he was sitting before Glorfindel on the horse Naneth. Rothinzil's horse snorted and back stepped as Erestor pulled back on the reins.

"We are sharing a horse!" argued the Gondolin Elf angrily. "I can't help it. It isn't like I am happy with this arrangement either and your complaining isn't helping." He kicked Erestor's boot pointedly and the adviser whirled his head around to face the golden-haired Elf.

"Glorfindel, just stop it! I can't read a map if you are kicking my boot and irritating the horse!" His tone was harsh and Glorfindel rolled his blue eyes with annoyance. It was after dark now, and not a one saw the motion. They had been traveling with this arrangement for hours without a single rest to they were more than livid with each other, friends or not.

The Gondolin Elf snorted, "you know with a friend like you, I hardly think that enemies are necessary." He reached forward to take the map, ready to analyze it himself once more. He was getting tired of just hearing descriptions. They only did so much to help him get an idea of the area and when a map was handy he was going to make full use of it.

Erestor jerked it away and said, "see? If you would stop this we would go a whole lot faster!" The dark-haired adviser sighed as he tried to hold the lantern with the other hand while balancing out the horse's reins and the map.

"It would, except for the fact that the one with the map typically is not the one with the horse's reins, oh wise one!" retorted the other darkly. "Why don't you let someone else have a chance with those reins?" he inquired shortly.

"Because I really don't trust you," remarked Erestor back as he traced lines over with his eyes on the parchment. "I know what I am doing."

"All right!" broke in Aragorn, unable to stand this bickering any longer. "I have never heard you both argue this much in at least two years! And now you choose to do it again?" he asked in total exasperation. Sighing so he would be able to resist the urge to strangle both of the Elf-lord's, the man said, "Legolas and Rothinzil are Valar knows where in Valar knows what conditions and you two are arguing over such trivial things! And to think you are 'respectable' Elf-lords!" he finished bitterly.

"I apologize Estel," Erestor said. "I didn't forget, but I am getting extremely frustrated. This map still has no indication of an entrance anywhere to seen." He finally gave a weary sigh and folded it up carefully before stowing it in a pocket.

"Erestor," began Glorfindel as the counselor glanced back at the golden-haired Noldo. "The map was _folded._ You must really be stressed out!" With a roll of his eyes the adviser actually consented.

"Yes, and getting more so." Holding the lantern high, he looked around them. There were rocks, everywhere. The dark-haired Elf had never felt more hopeless in his life. He suspected the door would be hidden among the rocks, but finding it would take time they did not have.

"Glad to see the both of you cooperating," muttered the ranger under his breath as he gazed up at the starless and moonless sky. There was no light there to guide them and it was a bit frightening. It was like the Valar were not there. Suddenly, he had the strangest sensation they were being watched.

He did not sense like the eyes that were hidden were evil, but foreboding, ominous and waiting for something. Looking to Glorfindel he said, "something is out there."

The ranger spun his horse around and looked behind them as though he expected the figure to appear from behind and attack or…something. The wind blew Aragorn's hood away from his face, snapping his dark hair in the wind and then plastering it to his face.

Erestor looked at how the man was carrying himself in the saddle. He was slumped, not straight as usual. His shoulders sagged and he could tell the human's breath was uneven and very hot from the dense and erratic puffs of steam that came from Aragorn's mouth and nose, showing white in the darkness. The ranger had a temperature. His sickness was growing worse. The weather was fast becoming the man's worst enemy.

That was kind of an odd thought, but it was true. He felt Aragorn could survive an attack from Dragons but the weather was going to kill his lord's son. In this was Erestor also felt responsible. He guided he and Glorfindel's horse over to where Aragorn was and reached his hand out to feel the young man's forehead, gently brushing aside stray locks of wavy dark hair.

It was damp with perspiration and hot with fever. Aragorn was burning up. It was likely he would catch his death out here. Erestor said in a low voice, "you are getting sick. Put your hood up!" Then he added a quick, "now!" for good measure.

Aragorn said, "I will be fine. We have to get Legolas and Rothinzil. It was my fault they were captured! I would rather die trying to save them then die later knowing that I did not even attempt their rescue. Glorfindel," he addressed the Gondolin Elf, "you know the way I feel. That is why you came after me. I knew you would!" Suddenly the young human coughed and sputtered into the wind. His chest felt tight and it was all he could do to breathe again.

As much as Glorfindel wanted to get the ranger into safety and could easily do it, he knew that Aragorn was right. There would be no living with the man if they did not let him do this. "Estel, I will back you to whatever end, but try to be a little less rash," he pleaded towards the end.

Erestor nodded, "as will I, though it is against my liking and we shall all rue it bitterly before the end I fear." Glorfindel just stared into the wind before hissing tersely,

"Get your weapons ready. Something approaches. There are shadows moving among the rocks. I do not know who or what they are." Erestor placed a hand on his sword hilt and he could feel it shaking slightly. He wasn't afraid, was he? No, but he was anxious. This was one of the last things they needed.

Glorfindel had his bow notched and bent and targeted at one of the moving figures. Suddenly another arrow sang through the air and struck the ground at the feet of Naneth. She snorted and it was all Erestor could do to keep control of her. More arrows hit the ground around them and they realized they were hemmed in. One arrow cut by Glorfindel's face and a commanding voice, "drop your weapons or we will shoot you were you are."

Glorfindel reluctantly let his bow slide from his fingers to fall and sink into the snow. He sighed and looked at Erestor, whose face was white, but grim. The counselor unsheathed his sword and dropped it, but he called out as he let it fall, "who travels under the cover of night waylaying those who have done them no harm?" His tone was bitter and cut through the air like a blade through butter.

"I would watch my tongue if I were you!" warned the voice. "And what adversary are you?"

"That depends upon your identity," returned Erestor in an icy tone. He rode forward a bit more, towards the voices. Glorfindel placed a stopping hand on his shoulder and squeezed. It was a gesture that plainly meant, _please be careful. Don't do anything you won't live to regret! _

"We are not servants of the Dark Lord if that is what you are prodding at," stated the voice openly and a tall, dark-haired Elf came into the lantern light. He was clad in green and brown, one of Legolas' people. By the way he carried himself and the way he took command, it appeared he was a captain. But the Elf's tone was sharp when he added, "only Dark Elves travel under the cover of night without stars unless the Elves' of Light have great need."

"Our need is great," answered Glorfindel, "and who do we have the honor of having as company?"

"That is not yet your business," said the Mirkwood Elf bluntly.

Aragorn rode Legolas' horse forward and said as he squinted in the dim light at the Elf before him, "Celebalda?"

The other Elf's jaw dropped, "Strider?" he asked abruptly. "You have changed." He stared at the beast that Aragorn rode. "You ride Legolas' horse," he observed.

"His master is missing," said Aragorn. "We are searching for him now. But thus far it has been in vain." Other Elves came out of the shadows and into the lantern light, clad in greens, browns and grays. Their hoods concealed their faces. Bows were at their sides.

Celebalda looked at Glorfindel and said, "I am sorry Lord Glorfindel. I did not realize it was you. And who rides with you?"

"This is Lord Erestor," said the Balrog-Slayer, "chief of the counselors of Elrond." Erestor nodded politely and Celebalda returned it saying,

"I am pleased to meet you. Had we met under better circumstances I would like to talk with you. But now as you well know, things are rather pressed."

"I understand," spoke the dark-haired adviser grimly. He turned to Aragorn, "you have to get out of the wind, Estel." The brisk gusts were getting sharper and more frigid.

"No, I-" Aragorn began to argue. A withering glare from Erestor ended that notion quickly. Sometimes he thought living with Elves was a real disadvantage. They always won arguments and they always found ways to laugh at you. The only one who hardly ever teased him was Roth and that was because the Wood-Elf had no room to talk.

"And where do you suggest we go?" asked Aragorn grumpily as he muttered to himself about the advantages and disadvantages of traveling with Elves. He was beginning to feel rather angry at this whole situation.

Celebalda reasoned, "we found a reasonable sized cave near here. It is not far and hides you from the wind well. It has a passage that goes further back, but that we have not explored."

"A perfect recipe for trouble I would say, "responded Glorfindel tersely. "Who knows what could be hiding in the depths."

"I know," commended the captain regretfully. "But we were in great need and thus far nothing has happened." Thalionril moved unobtrusively closer to his captain and glared through the darkness at Naneth, studying the creature.

"Sir, Rothinzil's horse is with them," he pointed out, trying to be helpful.

"I would imagine, that as usual, Roth is in over his head in trouble with Legolas," muttered Celebalda to his younger charge. "It is a bond they seem to share." Naneth seemed to glare. Celebalda found that disturbing and brushed it away as an effect of the cold on his mind set. The Mirkwood Elf nodded at his Elves and they began to head back to the cavern haven they had discovered.

Erestor looked back at Glorfindel and the Gondolin Elf shook his head slowly. They had no other choice and alone the three of them could not rescue Legolas and Rothinzil. They would need aid. Aragorn watched Erestor turn the floundering horse towards the warriors, to follow. Aragorn was reluctant to go with them and slowly turned Legolas' beast to trail the others. It struggled awkwardly in the deep snowdrifts before finding its feet.

He felt so lightheaded and the billowing snow was swirling into strange blurs as the wind caused his head to spin from cold chills.

**TBC……….Review please? We love that kind of thing, you know? Thanks so much. Yeah, just a few more chapters to go! Maybe it will be finished before Christmas Break, who knows? Wow! Still have to buy gifts and all that! **_-Authors count on fingers-_** only ten more days! Yikes! **

**Sorry, but there is no time for review responses, which really stinks, because that is one of the most fun things to do! LOL But we are extremely pressed:-( **

**However, we will next time, so please review and let us know what you thought of this chapter! **


	19. The Board is Set

_**CHAPTER NINETEEN**_

_The Board is Set _

Legolas woke up and he felt like everything was spinning closed his eyes again. His mouth was parched and his stomach felt so empty. Sitting up, he shivered and stood up. Pacing sounded like an entertaining thing to do at the moment.

Caranfëa was not in his cell. Legolas knew he was probably out fighting for his life somewhere. The thought made him stop pacing a minute and sigh.

Go around unused chains, stop, turn, walk the other way, stop, turn, walk the other way, he told himself as he paced back and forth before the door and up and down the length of his iron prison that he was becoming comfortable in.

He was so engrossed in pacing, that he did not notice when King came in, followed by three other rather large men. So when he heard a calm and still sinister voice say, "having fun Elf? Are you getting your exercise?" it was fair to say he jumped.

Glaring, he asked darkly, "what do you care?" He stopped pacing and just watched as King chuckled coldly. "I knew you would be getting edgy and so I did you a favor. I scheduled you a play date before your big night tonight."

Legolas knew what this meant. It was more than obvious. A torture session was coming. He asked with an equally calm voice, "don't you mean a torture appointment?" He was so bored and yet weary he did not care. Not anymore. What was going to come was going to come and fearing it was not going to hold anything back and would only worsen the situation.

"You see?" asked the man in a weary tone that spoke of exasperation, "You do not fear me, not a bit. I know it. You did at one time, but you are beyond fear now, aren't you? If you don't fear me, how can I expect you to do my will?" He sighed and said, "I have brought three friends of mine to teach you the meaning of fear, Elf. However I must leave now. I have so many things to do before our guests arrive. I have given them explicate instructions, but if those don't work or you cause too much trouble, they can improvise. My only requirement for them is that you are well enough to fight in the end after a few hours rest."

Legolas glared, "I will _never_ do your will."

"Oh but you will, slave," retorted the man icily.

Legolas just narrowed his eyes in slits of defiance. As the key to his cell grated in the rusty lock, he made now move to try and escape the inevitable. "I am not your slave, human," he stated in a hard and still carefully flat tone as two men gripped his upper arms and pulled him back towards the wall where he expected he was going to be shackled.

King just chuckled and his laugh sent thrills of fear, like tendrils of ice, reaching for Legolas' heart. Then the man left and called over his shoulder, "I shall see you in about an hour princeling."

Then men did not even talk to the captive Elf as they shoved him up against the wall and attached the shackles to his ankles and wrists to keep him in place. Legolas glared at them with attentive eyes that noticed all they were doing and soaked up their attitudes and constitution and in one scrutinizing glance.

He watched as they unrolled cloths and set them on small stools they had brought in. On the cloths, were instruments of different kinds and Legolas turned his face away from them whenever the men looked up. As Legolas gazed at the different instruments meant for this 'play-date' he saw the halter, tongue-chain he had been forced to wear and the pain of it came back like a ghost in his jaw and mouth.

He was still not fully healed from it and he winced inwardly as he thought of it tearing open the old wounds and digging them deeper. He also had no desire to taste his own blood again.

They had other shackles with them, he noticed. They were heavy and iron, heavier than the ones he wore now. They also had a long chain strung through them and he guessed that was for trussing the unfortunate prisoner up by the ceiling and leaving him to dangle with his feet barely touching the ground. There also was a short chain between the cuffs of the manacles, for keeping the hands together.

One of the men came and gripped Legolas' chin and his fingers bit into the Elf's flesh tightly, pinching his skin and creating bruises. "see?" he sneered. "Look what fun all four of us shall have? We even brought toys."

Legolas just jerked his face free and twisted his head away. A growing threat was rising in his convulsing stomach. Just then, a hard and sturdy punch crashed into his diaphragm, knocking the wind from his lungs and another in his gut sent him doubling over with a hiss. The chains he bore did not allow him to go far and he tried to curl into himself.

He was pulled up again and this time all three started in on him with their fists, using his abdomen as a punching bag and leaving him feeling quite winded and bowed against the fetters that were all that held him from curling up on the floor.

One punch had even smashed into his nose, causing blood to run down his face and a throbbing sensation to pulse through his body as consciousness threatened to relieve itself of its duty. Then men pulled his head up by the hair and looked at the bloodied face with smirks on their faces.

This had only been a test, to see how much he would take. Legolas knew it and he knew he must not fail or else the torment would be ten times worse. Seeing the angered and mutinous look reflecting in the prince's eyes, the men scowled. They had expected this, of course, but he still should be a little less antagonistic.

Evidently not.

So giving him one more punch in the gut to double him over, they undid the manacles from his wrists and ankles. He fell to the ground and curled into a ball, his body still aching form the abuse he had just received. The floor felt so good right now.

Then, of course, if it was comfortable, that was the last place he was going to be allowed to be.

Pulling him up by his hair, and arms, the yanked his hands behind his back and attached the strange shackles he had seen earlier on them. Legolas struggled a little, but was punched in the side of the head and nearly went out cold. The world spun and he tipped sideways. They grabbed a lock of hair and pulled him straight.

Threading the chains to a loop at the top of the prison, they then left enough room in it to force Legolas onto his knees. Then they pulled his arms up behind him, only halfway, but the pain was astonishing. He felt his breath stolen away. Such a simple thing caused such agony….it was unthinkable.

It felt like his joints were sliding out and cracking, breaking and he could certainly feel them grinding and trying to wrench free from their sockets. But when they pulled the chain up tighter Legolas arched his back slightly to try and ease the pressure his joints were grinding with by rising further than his knee, but they pushed him down and caused his arms to scream. He winced and they taunted, "simple, but it hurts, doesn't it?"

He saw them reach for the halter chain and Legolas felt his stomach jolt.

Putting on a defiant face, he followed their steps as they came to force him to accept it into his mouth. Grabbing him by his hair, they yanked his head back, sending more caustic pain through his back and arms. He jerked and struggled but they put an end to that by pulling his arms further up backward. Legolas writhed a little and then stopped, because it hurt more.

Another man gripped his chin tightly and pressed hard, causing dull, but horrible pain to stab his jaw and cheeks, forcing him to open his mouth to relieve the horrible pressure. But he was not going to accept that horse-bit of a device again and jerked his head away fiercely.

"Stop it!" snapped the man from behind him and landed a startling kick to the small of Legolas' back, lurching him forward against the chains and nearly dislocating his arms. Then they pulled his head back as he gasped to regain his stolen breath.

Legolas tried to yank his head free again as he felt the cold metal enter his mouth and close about his tongue again. The many unsmooth links tightened and chewed into the flesh of his tongue.

He had thought it was in his mouth and tightened. But they cinched the straps and clicked them in place behind his head. Legolas shuddered and felt a scream building up in the back of his throat. But this gag and torture device prevented him from it.

It was much tighter than before and bit deeper, filling his mouth with his own blood again. It was a repulsive taste and he tried to swallow it back, but his tongue was ripped even more. He could not breathe, and a feeling of fright set in as he writhed before them. He wanted to end this.

Hardly realizing he had closed his eyes against the pain, he opened them to see a man brining a strange hood and panic rose in his heart. But he would not break, he would not let them see it. No, never.

And another came back with a pot of hot water that Legolas could see steam curling from the top. He did not want to know what it was for and looked at the ground as one man came and tipped his head before pulling the chains that tore his mouth to see if they were tight enough. Legolas gagged on blood and tried to cough but he could not and his eyes watered, to his shame. It was not tears, but it was too close. Then man gripped the chain piece that ran along Legolas' cheek and then said, "are you having fun Legolas?" Not letting the Elf answer for himself he jerked the bit up and down viciously to serve as a nod of the head, driving the nipping rings further into the skin, where it would hurt to extract them and Legolas was certain that they would be none too gentle.

Blood mixed with saliva ran from the corners of his mouth and dripped from his chin and his mouth was stinging as though a thousand bees were all attacking it at once. The man gave it one last ferocious jerk down to make it stab the corners of his mouth and form new lacerations to draw more blood.

Kicking the tormented captive in the stomach that was already mottled with bruises, the man went and took the hood from what had to be his junior. He strode up to Legolas and waved it before the prince's face. Legolas saw it as made of wool.

"We are going to play a favorite game of mine," said the man with a cold chuckle. "It is like blind man's buff but a little more….artistic." He gripped the sides of the hood and a man came up behind Legolas and placed his hands on the sides of the prince's cheeks, holding his head in place.

After sliding the woolen hood over Legolas face the men stepped back and waited. The feeling of suffocation would be unbearable. Legolas jerked his head around, trying to shake off the hot and stuff cover.

He could not see and the air was so close. He felt a sick feeling coming and suddenly he gave a cry that caused his curb to bite deeper as a blow struck his ribs. Another hit him just below his smallest floating rib and smashed the air from his lungs. Legolas writhed and then his arms started to shiver as the chains stretched them backwards and up.

The kicks were coming from all sides now and he was crying out a little more frequently. The blood made his face itch as it smeared around in the hot and stuffy hood.

When the shower of painful blows stopped, Legolas tensed, expecting something worse. He was shuddering and convulsing now in terrible pain.

But he felt relief flood him when the chains that had been stretching his arms were removed.

Falling forward and bringing his arms to curl around his middle, Legolas cowered on the floor with the hood on. He could not see, he could hardly hear and more or less could not breathe, but his agony was so considerably less he was grateful.

The men looked down at the trembling being beneath them and smiled. He was learning his lesson well.

But they had one last thing to do to him and that was to dip his face with the woolen hood into the hot water.

They didn't even give him time to get a breath before his face was immersed in the hot water and the wool absorbed the liquid quickly, and went tight about the Elf's mouth and nose.

With his arms twisted behind his back by the men's hands, Legolas could not remove the suffocating hood that was not tight and he could not draw in a breath. His feet kicked out and hit against the ground as he twisted and turned in suffering. He felt like he was in his death throes and his chest was screaming for air and heaving, but with no oxygen entering to feed weakening strength.

He opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, allowing the horrible, twisted metal to tear his skin around his mouth corners and his inner cheeks. His tongue already felt like it was in tatters. But he could not help it and continued to buck as he asphyxiated.

The men watched as the struggles and surges began to cease and the Elf went limp in their grip. Thinking they had killed him, they quickly pulled him out of the water and whipped the hood from the immortal's face.

Legolas golden hair was plastered to a very pale face that was still smeared with crimson stains. His limp head leaned backwards over the headman's arm and more blood trickled down his chin in little rivulets. "Poor bastard," muttered he man as he placed Legolas on his stomach and hit him in the small of his back.

There was a small cough but no breath was drawn in. The halter was keeping back his air and choking him to death. Quickly the men cut the strap and let the chain slide form the blonde being's ensanguined mouth. It was followed by a flow of blood that had built up in the mouth. Then the Elf drew a shivering breath and lay there on the ground, panting.

The man watched as the color seemed to slowly come back to the blonde being's face. The blue eyes remained tightly closed and the prince shivered and winced against the cold, against his pain, against his shame.

He drew one last deep, calming breath and forced himself to rise up onto his knees. Wiping blood from his mouth and glaring at his captors he smiled. As insane as it was he smiled. He was still alive, he was still breathing and unbroken. His body was aching, but his spirit was still strong. Stumbling backwards, he pressed himself against the wall. Not out of fear, he needed it to stand, for he was still shaking.

The three surrounded him and growled, "you are strong Elf, very strong. But we can still break you, have no fear of that." The head of the three placed a hand on Legolas' throat while the two others held his arms and pinned him against the wall. The grip on his throat tightened and the man asked scornfully, "what am I going to have to do to you, Elf?" He hissed, "how can I make you squirm and beg liked the cur you are?"

He released his clutch on the prince's throat and backhanded Legolas twice across his face, the strength of the second blow sending the Elf to the floor. Legolas rubbed his face and glared up at the human, who was giving back a withering look.

He then had an idea. Oh it was wicked. But it would have this Elf crawling out of his skin.

Kicking Legolas in the ribs and rolling him over onto his back he demanded the other men, "hold his arms, while I get those chains."

Legolas didn't struggle, he knew it would only make things worse and make him seem as though he was afraid, which he was, but not enough to beg for the mercy he would not receive. He just lay there, breathing heavily and licking his bleeding lips and sucking on his bleeding mouth that was still stinging with a vengeance.

The man came back with a set of four manacles and some stakes to pound into the ground. Putting the blonde being's wrists and ankles into the chains the then cackled derangedly, "my orders were to make it so you can still fight later. You will be able to. But after you are mauled beyond recognition, you will still need to be identified." Legolas had a feeling he knew where this was going.

When he smelled smoke and saw flames out of the corner of his eye, he knew what was about to transpire. The men were laughing and Legolas could feel his heart thumping inside his chest as fear set in. It was more than obvious to a complete idiot what was going to happen, he was going to get branded.

It was no use begging, none would listen and he would be shown as the 'fearful, weak Elf' the 'begging cur'. He was not going to be labeled as such. He was going to escape. The fire had just been made, so the iron would not be hot for some time.

Pulling at the manacles that were about his wrists, the he managed to loosen the stake that was holding his right arm to the ground. It was not loose enough that he could pull it up, but that was going to change. He could hear their scornful laughter bouncing off the walls. But he heard another sound, a scratching beyond the wall. The orcs were trying to break past the rocks again and tunnel in.

Pulling now on the left shackle, he managed to loosen the stake some and he pulling some more then rested. They were not placed into the earthen floor well, but hard enough to move all the same. As he smelled the smoke and felt the heat of the fire from where he lay chained on his back to the floor, desperation and panic gripped his heart. He kicked at the chains on his ankles and jerked his arms against the strength of his restraints.

Halfway up, the pegs jammed. They were jagged at the edges and would go no further. _Valar! No! _He pleaded in his head. _This cannot be happening. _Kicking and wrenching some more, he managed to loosen the spikes enough to them out far enough for one more good lurch to have at least one free.

Then men were still laughing and he heard one say, "we can't wait to hear that pretty voice of yours! It's a shame no one else will hear you scream!" Their taunts were less than comforting.

"Your pathetic struggling is amusing Elf! As if it will do you a bit of good!" Their laughter hooted throughout the tunnel like room and Legolas winced against the fear those words evoked. The laughter was cruel, like that of orcs. But they were smarter than orcs and able to find crueler and more devious ways of teaching him pain.

Managing suddenly to his relief to pop up the stake that secured his left hand to the ground, Legolas smiled shakily. This was more like it. He was not going to be branded like a mule or some horse, he was not going to be marked as owned.

Reaching over with his left, the Elf accomplished freeing his right. Now he had only to get his feet free.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw them lifting up the iron and it was glowing. They were coming.

His heart was thumping wildly and it felt as though it might tear free of its cavity in his chest.

Pulling the stakes out of the ground that held his feet, Legolas jumped up, only to get his ankles entangled in the chains and fell down again onto a knee.

Scrambling back up, he began a limping run. The cries behind him were more than idol threats and he knew it. "Get over here you scum! While you are chained to the floor we can do worse than brand you!"

Legolas stumbled towards the large, thick wooden door and when he reached it he found it was locked. Slamming into it, he moaned quietly and hopelessly, "no! NO!" His hands clawed at it and he banged his fists upon it in vain. Turning around and seeing them coming with clubs and whips, he knew he was cornered.

He had two choices: to cower and plead with them for mercy. Or to fight them, risk capture and worse torment but have the chance of freedom. Choosing to fight, he narrowed his eyes and knitted his brows. Maybe he could force them to kill him. Maybe they could _free_ him. He could not be here another minute.

The men came with sneers on their faces, "locked is it?" Raising the club, the headman, the head torturer, was about to brain the prince with it, but Legolas leaped aside. His feet were caught up in the chains again though and he fell.

Tumbling clear of their steel toed boots, the immortal floundered up and crouched, waiting for the next move. The door he had been trying to escape from a little while before suddenly opened and went for it.

The face that greeted him on the other side was the last one he had ever hoped to see again. King gripped his wrist while grinning, "finally afraid, Prince Legolas?" he asked as he shoved the Elf backward into the arms of the three men to grabbed him and readily began to club him.

With the Elf secured between two of them, the head torturer came and kicked him in the stomach with such force that even as Legolas curled into himself and he felt the wind leave his lungs he was hurled backwards, landing hard against rock wall.

Dazed, the prince shook the dust and grime from his hair, before he was clubbed in the side of the head and spots muddled his vision. Still fighting in his mind, his body ceased struggling and he looked up at King. The Dark Dúnadan was smiling in a way that made Legolas feel sick.

"A valiant attempt for freedom, my prince, but you failed. Everything has a price, especially valiancy and failure. What shall I do with you?" he asked. "These good men were kind enough to try and teach you a lesson and you foolishly deny learning more wisdom?" he asked, gesturing to the three mortals and sneering at the Elf.

Legolas just shivered and looked at the floor. He was hoping that the price would be death. Just a clean death would be great right then. But he knew that his captors were not that kind. Death was dealt out at a painful price and he doubted that he was going to be even that lucky. "Since you are going to be fighting tonight," meditated King, "punishment is put off until a more appropriate time." Then he spat, "get up and keep your eyes to the floor, slave!"

The prince of Mirkwood didn't move. His raised his eyes and met King's cold and commanding glare with bitter growl in his throat that was all he could do to grind out, "I am no one's slave, traitor. I bow to no one." His eyes had glazed over with a sheet of seemingly shatterproof ice that glistened dangerously, like the sun upon the pools of a clear stream. The jaw of the blonde being was locked firmly in place, ignoring the pain of his mouth wounds and his lips curled into a daring sneer.

King clenched his jaw as well and his lips turned into a thin white line. "Legolas," he said thickly and in a wrathful tone. "Get up and beg forgiveness for your lapse in respect." The three men came closer around the defiant captive and their knuckles turned white as they tightened their clubs, ready to beat the Elf within an inch of his life.

"Never." One word said it all.

"You will regret this, slave." King looked at the man that Legolas had given the simple title of 'head torturer'. "Jaerden, I want him up and put in his cell. Make sure all the shackles are tight. But harm him no more unless you must. I want him to be able to win tonight, not just make a showing."

Legolas was grabbed and yanked up to his feet. His arms were twisted behind his back as he was lead back towards the minute sized cell. "When my friend comes for me, you will wish you had **_never_** done this!" Legolas threatened over his shoulder.

"No, when he comes, you will wish he hadn't, just like **_he_** will."

Legolas was shoved back into his cell and slammed back against the wall where the manacles were placed by onto his wrists and ankles. He gave them all a withering glare in turn, but the one called Jaerden, placed his hand on the crown of Legolas' golden head and forced him to look at the ground. "If I were King, I would make you kiss that."

Legolas jerked his head free and looked away. Then, he noticed Caranfëa wasn't in his cage like cell. Where was the little Elf? Was he dead? Of had he escaped? It was hard to say. Knowing the little Elf like he did Legolas knew it was impossible to predict anything Caranfëa did. He did not like to be second guessed and made a point of being different in more ways than physical appearance. He vowed he would never go to the West, just because some Elves he couldn't stand would be there. Legolas doubted he meant it, but there was no knowing. "What ever did you manage to do now?" he asked to the wall as he heard the lock slam into place and the key be wrenched free from the rusty lock.

Suddenly the voice of King spoke in a low voice, "how's Caranfëa?" He sounded concerned, but hardly for the Elf's safety. He was concerned for the safety of his cryptic business.

"He is in a lot of pain, King. The wrist is broken." Legolas felt a lump welling in his throat. He cared for the little rebel as being one of his people and in a way, a friend. Though with a friend like Caranfëa one hardly needed enemies.

"It was his own fault. The little fool. Oh, well. I suppose I should go and finish him off." Legolas winced and he felt tears begin to bite at his eye corners, begging to be released.

"But it can be mended!" protested Jaerden. "You went to the trouble to fix this Elf-"

"Incase you have been blind for the past ten minutes, I will tell you, my hands are full." He could hear the men pacing beyond the large wooden door where they had gone as he had stared at the wall. "I don't have time to splint it and he wouldn't let the bandage stay. He wants to die."

"Then why give him what he wants?" asked Jaerden. His voice sounded sinister and deadly. Legolas shivered.

King smiled behind the door and said, "an excellent point. And you can be the one to drag him from The Pit and place him in his cage. Our other guests will be here soon. I would be a rude host if I kept them waiting."

"Not until you pay me and my men our dues." The voice of Jaerden had changed to a hard and dark voice that was demanding.

"That blonde brat is still defiant as ever. He is afraid, but you haven't gotten him be really scared enough. He was defiant the minute the pain was gone-" King was interrupted.

"He is stronger than most. Something keeps him going," spoke Jaerden softly. "I don't know much of Elves. But there is something he is clinging to and he isn't about to let go." His voice changed to a compressed tone as he said, "he is waiting for something."

King nodded and said thoughtfully but with a foreboding tarnish to it, "he is waiting for his friend." Glaring into the darkness he growled, "forget Caranfëa. We have traps to prepare."

Elméra stumbled back into the open door out of breath. She was breathing deeply and Roth stared at her questioningly. She smiled and shook her head. "I was too scared to breath often out there." Roth smiled slowly, but it was a nervous and unsure smile.

Elméra lifted up the bunble she carried and said, "I have you a tunic and I think I found you and …..Legolas'…."she looked at the dark-haired Elf dubiously.

"Legolas'," confirmed Rothinzil narrowing his brows in thought of his friend.

"Legolas' knives." Her voice was low, husky and excited. She began to unwrap them from the clothes and pulled out one of the twin knives that Legolas always carried. She handed it to Roth with a shaky hand.

Receiving it gingerly, the dark-haired warrior handled it with reverence, knowing its value to its owner. As he looked at it he spoke softly, "this is Prince Legolas' knife. One of a pair, did you by chance get the other?" he asked as he looked at her face which bore the look of awe.

"I did," stammered the maiden as she produced it from beneath another flap of cloth. "I also have another I think you will recognize." After the assertion, she drew forth a blade that was longer than the twin knives and with an oak handle engraved with leaves and animals of the forest. The silver shimmered on the blade and Roth's eyes widened and he smiled.

'You found her," he said excitedly. "She is my sword." Elméra narrowed her eyes for a moment and for a brief second she thought he cared more about that sword than he did her.

"Pretty short sword," she said stiffly as she unfolded the tunic and held it up to him to see if it would be a fit. It would, with room to spare.

"Well, you have to remember my primary area of expertise is archery. I rarely get into close enough quarters to fight with blades," he explained patiently as she held out the tunic and cloak for him to wear.

Rothinzil slid into the tunic easily after handing the weapons to Elméra. It was a looser fit than she had ever expected and this alone was proof that Roth was slowly starving. She wished she could gather up some food for him to eat. A romantic dinner sounded so wonderful right now. Under the stars, the both of them. Then she inwardly shook that ridiculous notion out of her head. Right now, that was impossible.

"It is a bit big, but that will help trap warmth," she added to compensate for his frown as he eyed the clothing and she tossed him the cloak.

Roth wriggled into the cloak and fumbled with the clasp. Sighing, Elméra swatted his hands away from the fastener at his throat as though they were a couple of unsightly bugs before she straightened the clasp and fastened it. Roth smiled as she placed her head on his chest to hear his heart. Then, the maiden gently took her hand and put it over Roth's. Drawing his hand close, she set it between her breasts so he could feel her heart beating.

Rothinzil flushed considerably and she laughed into the cloak, "my dear Elf, you are so cute when you do that." This only caused Rothinzil to flush deeper as his embarrassment grew. He had _never_ considered touching her thus and then he felt incredibly young, even for an Elf. And as an Elf he was still barely past his teenage years.

"Well," he fumbled for the right words. "I never…I mean never mind." She giggled and pushing herself away, letting his hand slide free she walked towards the door.

"I always was under the assumption of tales that Elves were sweet and wise in their speech…"

"Not this one," mumbled the dark-haired warrior under his breath. He felt extremely tongue-tied at the moment and thoroughly embarrassed for no real reason.

She turned on him with eyes that were lit with love and happiness, "you have proven those tales true Roth." His red flush that had hardly left returned with a new vigor and he hung his head. "I am sorry,' Elméra said quickly, "I sound foolish, again."

"No, you don't," argued Roth before he could stop himself. Now he felt humiliated one too many times and added, "Legolas is waiting for us to rescue him." Looking at his sword, he stared at his reflection that danced across the silver of the sharp edged metal.

He was her protector, she thought dreamily. He would never let anything hurt her, he would never leave her, and he would always be there. He handed her his sword, "use this well. May she be good company to you."

Drawing in a sharp gasp she asked incredulously, "Rothinzil what in Middle Earth-"

"I will use Legolas'. I don't think he would let anyone else use them, you see," he plead for her understanding. His sword seemed to glow in her hand and she looked at it with astonished eyes. "She likes you," said Roth simply as he watched the strange gleam run across the blade. "You have a good heart and she will serve you honorably."

Elméra grinned and inquired, "your swords talk?"

"It is in their making. Everything has a creator, and his heart and soul is poured into his work, thus his mark is left," answered the raven-haired Elf with narrowed eyes; the answer was serious. "She was made by an Elf of Mirkwood, who is a great smith, named after the others of old, including Celebrimbor."

"So does this blade have feelings?" she asked, feeling very foolish.

"No. Just a perception of good and evil. It can sense either and acts as a warning device. Elves even created at some point, blades that glow when orcs come close." He held Legolas' knives carefully, hoping that they would glow for him and be willing to serve him. They seemed to ring faintly and a warm silver glow ran from their blade tips to the hilts. He felt himself sigh with gratitude and Elméra giggled and swung the sword he had leant up in an arc like motion.

Roth looked stunned. She obviously had some idea of what she was doing. "Where did you learn that?" he asked curiously.

"I watched Calmir and his friends on the farm and learned more for self defense than anything else," clarified the woman as she swung it over her head and it swished through the air with a clear ring echoing in both the beings' ears.

Roth watched her work with the blade and as he did he felt himself leaving, sort of fading into a mist where he could hear her laugh and feel the whoosh of the swiping sword, but he could not see it, not now. The fog like mist he was in was to think and hazy.

"_Where am I?" he inquired to the vapor that seemed warm and embracing._

_"Rothinzil," a deep, husky and comforting voice said ethereally. It was the voice of a woman that had to have lived ages and yet not so, for the voice also sounded young. "Rothinzil, sympathizer of men, by men betrayed." _

_Spinning around, he asked apprehensively, "who are you? Show yourself!" he commanded firmly but not threateningly. _

_"I am Lúthien, Daughter of Thingol," came a warm voice, like melted sugar. _

_Roth wrinkled his brow and asked, "how came you here?" He hardly knew much of this amazing maiden of great renown, but he knew she had died...for a mortal and for love. Spinning around to face the sweet voice that he had heard behind him he saw her standing there, right before him. _

_Her dark hair draped over her shoulders and her blue-gray eyes glittered ominously but understandingly. Her pale and serene face spoke of much the younger Elf could not understand. "Rothinzil," she spoke and her voice was low. " Do you know what you have called upon yourself?" _

_"It depends upon which you speak, Lady," spoke the warrior reverently. He felt himself shaking slightly as he beheld her beauty and her wisdom searching him. _

_"Look at your heart," she said and reached out a slender finger to come an inch away from the upper left of his chest. Roth looked and he saw a glow, a white flame that seemed to be burning. But he also noticed it was fading. _

_"It is dying, " he said in a whisper. _

_"It is your immortality, Rothinzil. You have given your heart to a mortal, even if you reject the fact," she answered calmly, her eyes searching his for doubt and fear. _

_Roth hardened them, but could not avoid the pierce of her gaze that seemed to stab him. "I don't understand." _

_"You have a choice to make." Her voice rose to a higher pitch. "Your heart is now given to a mortal and will not yield to another ever again. Reject it and you will live in sorrow forever, surrender to your love and you will live in happiness for a few more centuries then die, unless your grief kills you first. You know you will live longer than she." _

_"Why are you telling me this?" he inquired in a shaking voice. _

_Lúthien smiled a smile of one who knows and said, "I have been there. I know what fear, pain and sorrow are all about." She let the mist clear away to show Elméra swinging the sword gracefully, her strength and beauty shown in full. She smiled as she enjoyed herself for the first time in a long time. Her long, red hair swung about her neck and face. _

_Roth shook his head. He certainly didn't want to die, but as he watched her, her bravery and her spirit dance with the sword as she practiced. He wanted to be with her forever. Eternity was a long time to be without her in his life. He wanted to always be by her side. _

_Lúthien read his thought and looked him in the eye as he asked, "what must I do?" He really didn't know. He wished Legolas was here. He missed his friend now more than ever. _

_"'I only find it fair to warn you that the world shall be against you. You shall be in more danger than ever and peace will be hard to find, yet your happiness will be great.' This message comes not from me, but from Mandos. He bids you not surrender, though he knows you will." _

_"Then let us not postpone it, I give everything up. To live only a few more centuries and die alone shall be my fate." _

_"Perhaps not alone, but that is yet to be seen. But I do not postpone anything. Now you have spoken it, let go." She came and placed her hand over his heart and it felt hot like fire, but it did not burn. The white light of his immortality glowed around it and shown on her face. _

_Roth drew a deep breath and exhaled it and as he did, he felt the spot above his heart that had been hot grow cold and the glow faded. He felt strange and fear clutched at him with tendrils of misty pain and loss. What had he done? But there was no going back, if he did he would regret it forever. _

_Lúthien withdrew her hand and opened it to reveal the glowing immortal life that Roth had once possessed. And she smiled, "I have been there and I'm standing with you now. Do not be afraid, Rothinzil. You have a good heart." She then held out her hand, offering him the chance to go back, but he did not take it. So she closed it and when she opened it the life Roth had known and taken for granted was gone. _

_He stood there gaping, at a loss for words and feeling numb. Was this what death felt like? But he was still physically living, just he wasn't what he had used to be. But he suddenly felt joy insuppressible as he knew who he would share his mortal life with until death did they part. _

_Lúthien said, "you fell empty, but you won't forever. It is a passing thing, time will heal it." She came and took his hand in hers and said, "you shall face many trials now. For it is not fitting that the Eldar should wed the Edain." Then she smiled and said, "until the sun sets on your time this is our last farewell."_

Then she was gone and he was standing looking at past Elméra with a dropped jaw. She stopped working with the sword and turned to him. Laughing now she asked a question that made Rothinzil feel ridiculous, "what are you doing?"

"Thinking," he responded matter-of-factly. It was true anyway. "I am beginning to wonder whether you should really come with me. It is going to be dangerous. Very dangerous. I don't want anything to happen to you."

"Rothinzil! I can't stay behind and anyway I laugh in the face of danger," she disputed fiercely and her eyes seemed to get a dangerous glow in them.

"Well, we can laugh later, right now I am serious."

"How are you going to make me?" she asked simply, placing a hand on her hip and glaring daggers at the Elf that a moment ago she had been cooing over.

Rothinzil glared and then he looked off into the darker part of the storage room. Stubborn, stupid female! What did she know of battles? What did she know of true combat? This was going to be dangerous and could very well prove lethal. "I will have enough to think about getting Legolas out alive. I don't need to have to look after you!"

"Look after me?" she seethed angrily. "Who pulled you from death's grasp, may I ask? I think I am owed more credit than you present me with!" ended the maiden harshly.

"You saved me, yes, but that was different. Elméra, you could be killed," he said urgently. What part of the words, _killed, deceased, slain, death, _did she not comprehend?

"We all are going to have to make sacrifices Rothinzil. This is my battle too, and you can not stop me from choosing to defend my life!" she finished nearly in tears. "Why did you lend me your sword if you didn't expect me to use it?" she demanded, brandishing the weapon in his face.

"Be careful with that!" he said hurriedly. "And if you must know it was so you could defend yourself if you had to. I have other obligations that will not permit me to always be there to protect you! I-I-I…if you died so would I!" he struggled to explain. He knew they had all made sacrifices, no one the more. "If you were in any other situation and there was a chance for to go fight and you stay behind. You had no revenge to seek on anyone, would you go or stay?"

Her chin quivered, "I would stay. But I am locked down here just as much as you are and everybody is needed." Elméra scowled and said, "now do you understand?"

"I suppose there is no stopping you," he ended the argument grimly and pulled her close so that her head was against his heart. She pushed back.

"Roth, you feel so cold. Why?" Her voice was panicked. She looked at him and her face was contorted in fear. "Roth?"

"I made a promise," he said simply and pulled her close again.

She shoved away and glared at him, her eyes running over him. "I know Elves speak in riddles, don't play with me, Rothinzil!" she warned him off from where she felt he was heading.

"I can't tell you," he managed out and turned away. "Perhaps some other time."

"I don't want there to be any secrets between us," she begged, tugging at his arm to pull him around.

"Some things are buried too deeply and take time to dig out, Elméra," he said. "I'm sorry." He looked at her with sorrowful eyes. "For me the pain and wonder is still too near." She looked hurt, but she nodded, seeing the pain reflected on his face. She did not want to pressure him into a corner and force him to tell her something that would make him feel stabbed through the heart.

"I trust you," she murmured and said, "as you said earlier, Legolas can't hold out much longer. We need to be moving on." Bracing herself against his chest, she reached her arms behind him and pulled his hood up around his face. Then she tucked his long, dark locks of hair back into it gently. As her hands brushed against his ears he jerked back.

Thinking she had hurt him, she stared at him with an inquiring look. He chuckled and said, "it tickles." Smiling she chortled,

"I will have to remember that." She then reached her hand back into his hood and was careful not to brush his ears. Roth still flinched and smiled brightly as she made sure his hair and ears were hidden. She grabbed the sides of his hood and pulled him closer with a teasing grin, "I would think you were afraid of me if I didn't know you were a brave warrior."

"I am so terrified," he said sarcastically and pulled at the tunic that he still felt awkward in. Making sure he had the twin knives clean and ready for liberal use, he looked at her and said, "we had best get going, otherwise there might not be any Legolas to rescue. He has this uncanny knack for getting his captors furious with him." Elméra turned completely sober and nodded in coherence.

The cave was small at the opening and there was no possible way the horses would fit. As much as they hated to do it, the three companions would have to bid farewell to their faithful beasts. The horses hung their heads and nickered softly and sorrowfully. Naneth looked down the cave through the door and whinnied softly, calling for Rothinzil. When no one answered back, she followed Legolas' horse away mournfully.

Erestor sighed and looked back at Glorfindel, who was watching the horses go with an almost mournful look on his face himself. He had a soft spot for horses, especially his dear Asfaloth. Aragorn shivered and placing his hands on the human's shoulders, Erestor steered him into the cave entrance. Glorfindel was the last to enter the hidden space.

Once in sight he joined the circle of Elves and the ranger who were sitting on the floor. There was no fire, for none knew what dangers it would bring. Right now it would help the enemy more than it would them. At least they were out of the wind.

Aragorn felt his face warming now that the frigid gusts were not constantly beating on him. It was a strange hot feeling that he welcomed. But it meant almost nothing all the same. Legolas and Rothinzil were still in danger and he was not going to enjoy anything until he found them. Even finding them was not enough, he had to save them.

"Do you know anything of the situation we are all placed in?" asked Glorfindel to Celebalda.

The addressed Elf wrinkled his brow and said, "we are unaware of anything past the fact that Legolas is missing and that Roth is with him…again," he added briefly, looking at the Gondolin Elf with single raised brow in question.

"Legolas and Rothinzil were kidnapped," explained Glorfindel sorrowfully. "We have not been able to find them and they were not in good condition when they were taken. I am sorry to tell you that we cannot find the entrance to the mines we are certain they are being held in." He finished it all with a sigh.

Celebalda stiffened at this information. "Legolas doesn't like caves," he muttered darkly. "I don't know about Roth." His voice was full of emotional pain.

Aragorn listened absentmindedly to the conversation between the Gondolin warrior and the Mirkwood captain. He had nothing left, just an empty heart. He felt so depressed. There wasn't a road he knew that lead to anywhere.

Looking in the back of the cave he got up and began to walk towards it. Pulling his cloak tighter about himself as he felt a chill run through to his marrow, the ranger fumbled over a stone and tripped. His hands landed in cold, frozen dirt and mud. In the frozen mud, he discovered tracks. Tracing them with his fingers, he knew that they were human. Elves would have made hardly any tracks and orcs were deeper and broader.

A wind blew up out of the cave and ruffled through his wavy hair. The ranger looked back into the darkness with bright silver eyes. An ominous feeling came over his heart and he grimaced as he picked himself up off his knees. Brushing dirt and grime from his clothes the man choked back a cough and crept further into the darkness, leaving behind the Elves.

As he stared into the murkiness of the stuffy environment, the man became lost in thought. He knew suddenly where Legolas was. He was in there, in the dark, waiting to be rescued. He could imagine his friend's face twisted in fear and sorrow.

Aragorn's heart was in his throat he could not swallow; he could not breathe. He was afraid, no; he was terrified for his friend. He also felt horror for Roth knowing the young Elf's history.

A hand came to rest on his shoulder and a voice whispered into his ear, "Erestor was having a fit. You had better get back here and let him know you are alright."

"Legolas is back there," the dark-haired man said ecstatically.

Glorfindel wrinkled his forehead and looked with narrowed and concerned eyes at the earnest young man before him. "Pardon?" he asked. "Estel, this is just a cave." He did not know this for a fact, but he was pretty certain that was all it was, no more. Oh perhaps orcs had been here once, but that had to be a while ago.

"No," hissed Aragorn in a dark tone. "This is the entrance to the mines. I can feel it." Aragorn looked back into the dark and Glorfindel cleared his throat.

"Are you sure? How do you know?" asked the Elf tensely as he began to feel nervous in the thick and imminent darkness. His blue eyes looked over the ranger's serious face.

"There are tracks, I felt them with my hand," accounted the dark-haired man. "They were too deep for an Elf, too light and narrow for an orc." He squeezed his hand as he thought of how he had discovered them. It was then he realized how numb and cold his fingers were.

"You know if that is true, it changes everything," stated the golden-haired being as he glanced over his shoulder at the other Elves in the front of the entrance. He saw Erestor talking in hushed and neurotic tones with Celebalda. The counselor's face was twisted in deep anxiety and frustration.

Aragorn thought for a moment and then his frowned and narrowed his eyes. "There could be a trap." He drew in a sharp breath and shook his head, "do you think they knew we were coming?" he questioned the Elf-lord fearfully.

"I do not know," said Glorfindel in a completely sober tone that was hardly ever heard to come past his lips. He scowled with verbatim, "show me the imprints."

Aragorn crouched to the ground and so did Glorfindel right beside him. Grabbing the Gondolin Elf's hand, he placed it where he had felt the indication frozen in the mud. Glorfindel felt the edges and his anxiety grew. These were human tracks. Or so he thought. This could very well be the hidden entrance. If it was, it made sense.

He heard a low hiss that sounded dangerously like a threat call out, "Glorfindel! Estel!" It was Erestor's voice and the golden-haired immortal raised his head from where he had it bent in thought. He stood up and called to the adviser.

"Yes! Stop it!" His voice rash and in a venomous censuring hiss. He ran his boot over where the prints were and Aragorn continued to run his finger over another set of identical indications as though by doing that he would bring Legolas back. If that were all that was needed though, it would be too easy. He knew this fact and admitted it ruefully.

Erestor held aloft the small lantern and walked stiffly and quickly towards his companions. He stood before Glorfindel and placed his hand on either of Glorfindel's arm, giving the limbs a light squeeze. "What in all Arda is the matter with you?" he snapped in a reprehensible tone. But his eyes spoke of worry.

"This is it, Erestor," said Glorfindel evenly to the adviser. It was worth saying just to see the counselor's jaw drop.

"Are you sure of that information?" Erestor spoke in a stammer. His eyes darted past Glorfindel to Aragorn, who could dimly be seen tracing the tracks in hopeless despair and staring back into the void darkness of the cavern. The lantern light did not reach far, so none could see the flame of determination reflecting in the man's eyes.

"Estel found the tracks. I looked at them and they are from a man."

"Would you choose this as a hide out for a mine door?" asked Erestor forthrightly as he released his grip on the other's arms. His tone clearly showed he had some skepticism about the entire speculation, but Glorfindel also observed that the timbre was light enough that Erestor's mind was not closed to the possibility.

"Do I look like a miner?" answered Glorfindel before saying, "I would, actually, though. It looks just like a simple cave. Most mines have doors and shafts and such. Not likes this. Many would pass it off as another common grotto," he concluded.

Erestor raised a dark brow and nodded, seeing the point that Glorfindel made well. Then he smiled tensely. "How do you know what a mine looks like?"

"Has Elrond ever told you of the time I was sent by him to talk to Dwarves in order to find out some information about the Seven?" he asked with a waning smile flashing across his face as well.

Snickering slightly, the counselor muttered, "yes, yes.."

"Well does _that_ answer your question?" finished the Gondolin Elf as he gazed off into the black of the ominous subterranean passage.

"Very well," commented the adviser dryly. He then said, "so are we going to go back there? I do not like this…It seems to be a good place for an attack on their part. Wouldn't you think?"

Glorfindel glanced at Erestor before returning his attention to the darkness. "I am not sure. But I think you are right. However, if we do not go, Estel will on his own." His eyes rested on the ranger, who was standing now, watching the darkness as though Legolas might just step out of it.

"Then what are we going to do?" asked Erestor crossly.

"You are the adviser," Glorfindel reminded.

Erestor felt a stab of embarrassment. He flushed and was grateful for the dim light so Glorfindel could not see. That was one thing he could never live down. "I have never been in this sort of situation before," Erestor hesitated. He looked at the ground and muttered, "I don't know."

Glorfindel heard it but he had to put mirth at the dark-haired Elf's humiliation aside. "Here comes Celebalda," he muttered grimly.

The dark-haired Mirkwood Elf came over to them, followed by Thalionril. He asked stiffly, "can someone please explain to me what is going on?" His eyes darted from Aragorn, to Glorfindel to a scowling Erestor, giving each in turn a questioning stare. Thalionril just looked about as nervous as a deer caught between fire and a starving warg. Which way he jumped, he was caught.

Aragorn sighed and went over to the Elves. "Legolas and Rothinzil are back there," he gestured towards the lightlessness angrily. "They have them both in there!" he whispered fiercely.

Celebalda groaned, "and what evidence do you have to support that?"

Thalionril shifted slightly away from his captain and away from the others. It was not his place to choose sides and the young Lieutenant did not want to get involved in an argument where he was forced to choose sides. He could never argue with Glorfindel or Erestor, the great Elf-lords, anymore than he could with King Thranduil. But he could not go up against Celebalda, his captain and soon to be father-in-law.

Aragorn responded stiffly as he glared at the Elf-captain, "I found tracks. Too deep to be an Elf, to thin and narrow to be an orc, not to mention too light."

The head Elven officer sighed and said, "I do not doubt your growing skill, Dúnadan, but the fact is you are young. Are you sure?" he asked again. "My Prince and friend are both in the clutches of some monsters and I mean to get them back." He said this more to tell himself his goals than to inform the ranger.

"Would you call me young then, _pen-eth_?" said Glorfindel adamantly. His scowled deeply as the Mirkwood Elf grimaced.

"Most assuredly not. But even the wise make mistakes-"

"The fact is even Estel knows more of the situation than you do," said Glorfindel. "I checked the tracks and my conclusion concurs with his." He did not want to get into an argument with Celebalda, who seemed like a fine young captain with a loyal heart, but he wasn't going to let Aragorn get belittled either, accident or not. He shuddered to think of what would have happened if Legolas had heard Celebalda's last comments, or the twins.

"I am in no position to be able to argue with you Lord Glorfindel and your told and retold valor and wisdom speak against my want to get into conflict with you. But going in there is dangerous," he pointed out bluntly. "If I don't have to, I would rather not risk my Elves." He said in a lower timbre, "they aren't trained for this sort of thing."

Erestor just rolled his eyes and said with aplomb, "well it is too late for you to do that now! We will have to work with what we've got or go back. The latter is not an option." This was the counselor Glorfindel knew. He smiled in the dimming lantern light.

"I know, I know," chanted Celebalda succinctly. He drew a deep breath and asked his elder in a duteous way giving the situation they were in, "how shall we do this then?"

Erestor sighed impetuously and muttered, "Glorfindel, that question is deferred to you."

The Gondolin Elf cleared his throat, not expecting this deference and said, "What do you know of Gondolin's fall, Lord Erestor?" he questioned slowly. He did not like remembering it, but it was going to useful in this situation.

Erestor looked uncomfortable and admitted under Glorfindel's scrutinizing blue eyes, "Not as much as you, I am sure." He looked at the golden-haired Balrog-Slayer's eyes and then at the floor. He saw too much memory in the azure orbs for comfort.

"There was a tunnel, made, or told to be made, by the White Lady herself," he answered precisely. "I was one of the few who knew about it as there I was a captain and lord. In any event," he continued. "We traveled through it with other survivors, (including Eärendil) to escape the sack of the city and watched from a distance as she burned and Turgon's tower fell." Here the Elf-lord drew a deep and painful breath.

"We were ambushed at the top and I…I…fell. As I have scrutinized the situation over and over again in my mind, I now see that if we would have paired off and everyone had someone to watch his back, we might have made it. _Might_.'' He looked at Celebalda, who was staring in awe back.

Aragorn looked uncomfortable. He walked up and stood by Erestor, who looked down at him and smiled. "What Glorfindel just told took a lot more courage than the things many have done. Remember, that some words take more strength to say than some deeds in this earth, Young-One." His voice was a whisper and Aragorn just nodded.

"We are going to go and get Legolas or I am going by myself," he professed stiffly.

Erestor hissed, "just listen."

"So you are suggesting we pair up and venture into the unknown darkness of that place where I am sure there are traps galore?" he asked in a high-strung manner of speaking.

He shook his head contritely and in frustration at what he felt was his own lapse. "I cannot ascertain any other conceivable way," he accepted to himself. His eyes held Glorfindel and then switched over to hold Aragorn's and then a hard and determined look came over them. "We shall do it."

A smile bust across Aragorn's face and he breathed under his breath, "yes!" _I'm coming Legolas. Roth, hold on. _

**TBC……Yeah, long chapter, huh? So, hmmm….**-_tallies off bad things on fingers-_ **Legolas got the snot knocked out of him, Aragorn is sick and depressed but going through with the impossible, Erestor is going to be going into the mines where King is…OOPS! Our bad, those are good things! Sorry, our error. **_-wicked snickers- _

**Please review!** **Those mean so much to us! Please, please, please! Okay, so we aren't beyond begging. LOL **

**Review responses: **

**Leela 74: **Hey! You're back! _-hugs Leela- _Thanks for the review! Yes, we know what you mean. Doesn't school stink at times? We have had reports and papers coming out of our ears! Well, not literally you understand! LOL That would be creepy. _-shudders-_

**Nefhiriel: **Thanks for the review! Have fun during the Christmas season! When you get back the story might be finished.

**Vanessa: **Awwwww…..gee, thanks for that cute review!

**Deana: **Yup, Legolas is going to be suffering from headaches galore if he isn't more careful about who he ticks off. LOL Thanks for the review.

**Marie Delcore: **Talk to you at lunch Mellon nin!Thanks for reviewing!

**elitenschwein** Yes, sick rangers are such un to play with. Thanks for the review.

**Lil Cwick:** Thanks for the sweet review!

**Snow Glory:** Yes, only a few more chapter to go, sorry. But there is a sequel, but it won't take place directly after this story, so in a way it's a sequel-prequel. Hehehehehehehe. Well, here's a hint for the whole bed of snakes thing, Aragorn hasn't been through enough yet. Thanks for the review!

**Sorry if the responses were short, but we have no time. **


	20. Winner Takes All

_**CHAPTER TWENTY **_

_Winner Takes All _

_"He who loses money, loses much; He who loses a friend, loses much more, He who loses faith, loses all. "  
--Eleanor Roosevelt_

"I am sorry Legolas, my apologies to you," said King as he entered the room briskly and walked past Legolas' cage, gathering up chain netting. "Business calls and I was born to answer it. You shall have to wait a few more hours to fight. Though, if it gives you any comfort, you have more time to recover," he pointed out ironically.

Legolas glared and said bitterly, "you are in big trouble human."

"You're the one in the cage," scoffed the man back. He strode out of the room quickly. Legolas was left all alone.

He was frightened, this was one of the few time in his life he had ever been truly afraid. He was horribly frightened. It had taken all his strength to hide and an he curled up in the corner of his cage and placed his back to the door. Setting his chin on his knees, he felt his eyes burning.

Tears slid down his bloodied and bruisedmottled cheeks as he cried in frustration and hurt. He was tired of having to be strong. Snuffling back a sob that threatened to burst forth like water against a poorly built damn. The Elf tried to gain control over his emotions.If King came back in and saw him crying, he would never forgive himself.

He was lonely and even though he could control his breathing, he could not control the tears. A few drops and they also stared falling, like the rain in a spring storm. Wiping them away with the back of his hand, the immortal glanced up towards the heavens or in this case, the dirt ceiling. _I can't live this life anymore if this is all it is going to be. Please, help me! Somebody help me!_

As he had expected, there was no answer and wiping his face dry of tears ,he began to pace his cell. But this offered no comfort, there was none for him to find. Sighing, he sat against the wall again and placed his knees by his chest then he held them tightly with his arms and slipped into a numb sleep of surrender.

>>>>>>>>>

Celebalda and Thalionril stepped forward into the utter darkness of the tunnel. The captain then motioned for his Elves to follow him in their pairs. Glorfindel, Erestor and Aragorn followed together.

There had been an uneven number of nine and so, having already traveled thus far together and knowing each other so well, they had decided to have each other's backs together.

Water, frozen along with minerals, hung from the cavern's ceiling in long icicles with razor points. If a larger one fell it could kill some one easily. The ground was wet in places beneath eh Elves feet and frozen in odd ways.

Erestor commented in a low whisper as he eyed the darkness around them uneasily, "This is just like in a book I read once." Glorfindel looked sharply at the counselor.

"And how did it end?" he inquired curiously.

"They were killed."

"Optimism must be overrated, huh?" Aragorn muttered to himself.

Glorfindel and Erestor both glared at the human. "Last time we checked you were the one in despair."

Aragorn said, "was I now?" He knew he was, but being this much closer to finding Legolas lightened his heart.

They were about ten yards into the tunnel when there was a clang above them and it echoed off the walls eerily, sending cold shivers down the rescuers' spines. Glorfindel whispered into Erestor's ear, "no matter what happens, I want you to take Estel and keep moving."

Erestor hissed harshly, "what do you mean? What are you scheming about now?"

"We aren't alone," murmured the Balrog-Slayer. He looked around and said, "we are being watched and they are waiting for the opportune moment to spring their trap." He nodded up at the rock walls and crevices around them.

"Listen carefully, and you can hear their excited and uneven breathing."

Erestor grimaced. Glorfindel was right and it was frightening. Not that he was right, but what he was right about.

Suddenly there was a slithering sound, like rope sliding along the wall and a loud bang erupted behind them and all immediately recognized it as the sound of a grate slamming.

Celebalda cursed his luck as his Elves bunched up around him and he said, "we are locked in from behind. There is no turning back!" Shouting, he screamed, "Stay together!" Then he drew his sword and there was a swishing resonance as other weapons were whipped out of their sheaths for ample use.

Then there was another sound, the sound of chains rattling and of something humming through the atmosphere of the grotto. With the Elves all bunched together, it was perfectly extracted and they gave cries of dismay as chained nets pinned them to the ground.

Glorfindel heard one coming towards them and shoved Erestor into Aragorn saying tensely, "run! Go! Some one needs to get through! I will meet you if I can! Go!"

"And leave you to get killed?" argued the adviser adamantly. He glared in the darkness and then a chain net fell over him, knocking him to the ground. Glorfindel groped in the lightlessness for the netting and quickly cleared it from Erestor and Aragorn's frames. They stumbled up and Glorfindel screamed, "run!"

Everything was chaos and Erestor and Aragorn were left with no choice but to flee. They ran, but they did not know where, only that it was away.

Glorfindel felt men closing in on him and he drew his sword out, stabbing right and left. But they were impending and suffocating in numbers. He also realized it was hard to tell friend from foe. He was so afraid of killing one of their own that he forced himself so slow his talented fighting skills to what he would expect from a young Elf.

He felt hot blood run over his fingers and his hilt slighter in his hand with moisture as it became slippery with his enemy's blood. It was a sickening feeling, for even though he was a warrior, he was an Elf and not a mercenary. Killing was far from his favorite thing to do, though there were times when it was a relief.

Suddenly he felt something slam into his back and he lurched forward before receiving a sharp blow the back of his skull. A white pain flashed before his eyes and blazed through his every awareness as he stumbled forward a few uneven steps. Then he felt the world reeling beneath is feet and he fell to the ground in numb dizziness.

His sword slid from his grasp and he moaned. He tried to pick it up but he felt insensate and immobilized. The blow to his skull had blurred his sense of reality. He felt the sword touch his hand but he could not grasp it. He was fighting unconsciousness, but it was winning hands down.

It felt eerie, just like death. Maybe he was dying again, he thought with a stab of annoyance. How was it that he wasn't able to maintain a life span on this Middle-Earth? He couldn't figure it out for the life of him and suddenly he felt another blow hit the back of his head as someone kicked out at another as they fought. He heard a cry come from an Elf and he wondered what ever had happened to make an Elf cry out in such a way. From the weight of the blow he could tell it was not an Elven foot and then he plummeted into unknowledgeable darkness.

Erestor and Aragorn stumbled on until they banged into a door. Hearing the cries out in the other Elves, it burned both of their hearts. "I am going to kill him!" seethed Erestor angrily. Mumbling to himself, the counselor said, "stupid, idiotic, utterly insane moron! I hope he is not lying gutted some place." His voice was fearful and had lost its normally cool and flowing attribute.

"I am going back for him!" announced the dark-haired Elf decidedly. He began to walk back down the long corridor they had ran down and Aragorn grabbed his arm.

"He is a warrior, he gave us a job to do, I suggest we do it." The ranger said, "Legolas and Rothinzil are back there. We an rescue them and then go back for the others."

Erestor looked genuinely torn and he quivered in emotional pain. Aragorn expressed his understanding, "I know what you feel like, but Legolas and Rothinzil are in desperate need and Glorfindel can look after himself."

Erestor gave a twisted snicker and said, "you, Legolas, Rothinzil, the twins, are incapable of keeping yourselves safe." He sighed and wiped his hand across his brow, clearing away the perspiration that came from nervousness. "We have reached the end of this corridor, now where do we go?"

His hand came to rest on the handle of the wooden door handleand he grasped it. "This is a door." He had never felt so stupid. He had siad that like it was greatest thing in the world. How humiliating!

Aragorn nodded in the dark. He felt dizzy and if it wasn't for the blackness of the mines he was certain he would be seeing shapes dancing all around. His breath felt so hot and he shivered. His shoulder was against Erestor's and the adviser examined in a startled voice, "are you alright?"

Aragorn brushed off the inquiry hastily. "Fine. Never better." The last thing he needed was Erestor trying to play the role of the nurse. An honorable role no doubt but Erestor was not cut out for it. The ranger pulled his cloak snugly about his lean frame, staving off the feverish chill he felt even in his eyes. To be honest, he felt beyond miserable.

"Open the door," he suggested quickly to draw attention away from him as he thought of the plight his friends could be in.

The Elf wrinkled his forehead and narrowed his eyes into dark silver slits. "I know what you are doing." His voice was soft and he said, "you need to rest. I do not know exactly what is wrong with you, but humans and cold never have mixed well in the past."

"Please just open the door," begged the ranger adamantly.

"Estel, your father-"

"Please!" He felt like he was going to throw up and if he didn't get moving, he knew he would. His stomach was flipping and he felt like his insides were about ready to pour out of his mouth. The thought alone sickened him worse and he placed a hand over his mouth in the dark to avoid lurching forward to expel his stomach contents.

Erestor turned the doorknob and was shocked by the inside of where they were. There was a large pit in the center of the floor. It was deep and wide with straw lining the bottom. Torches in cones against the walls, driven into the soft dirt and small gravel shed light throughout the dusty and foul smelling room.

A layer of smoke floated above them and Erestor coughed as he walked forward. "What happens here?" he asked aloud before he could catch himself.

Aragorn went and stared over the edge of the pit and saw what he had expected. Blood stained straw littered the bottom of the hole and some of it was fresh. There was a large place where someone or something must have lain in their own blood for hours before being disposed of.

It was sickening and he thought of his Elven-friends who had disappeared and been taken here. What if that was Legolas or Rothinzil's blood that coated the lining of the excavation? He could see it so vividly it made tears spring to his eyes as he thought about their eyes, searching the crowds for help that would never come.

"This is where they fight," Aragorn muttered in a trance as Erestor came to stand beside him.

The Elf's eyes fell upon a lone figure in the pit. He was sitting against the wall, watching them intensely. His green eyes were filled to brimming with wrath and scorn. His red hair fell about his bloodied face. His ribs were evident on his thinning frame and the counselor asked across the hole. "Who are you?"

The being laughed insanely yet it made sense and said, "someone who is going to die sooner or later." His answer was the one of a being who has accepted his fate and was trying not to see the dark side of it.

He held his wrist closely against his body and Aragorn looked sidelong at Erestor before the counselor turned his attention back to the injured being. "What happened to your wrist?" he questioned in a kind and yet demanding voice. His eyebrow furrowed as he scrutinized he small redhead. "Are you an Elf?"

"I must say I am indeed pleased," said the other. "I was beginning to think I was battered beyond recognition."

"You nearly are," responded the dark-haired Elf-lord quickly. 'What happened to you?" His eyes fell upon the cradled wrist.

"I broke my wrist. As soon as King comes back he will slay me," the redhead said serenely. "Such is my fate, I suppose." He muttered something else totally inaudible. "He will slay me unless I find a way to get free first," he added fiercely. And he meant to do just that.

"Have you seen a blonde and dark-haired Elf?" asked Aragorn, distraught. He circled the rim of the pit that was the small being's prison so he could get closer. "What is your name?"

The little Elf cackled and said, "my name is Caranfëa. And if you are looking for Legolas and Rothinzil, they are not here. Legolas is in his cage. That is where he is kept by King quite often. Rothinzil, he is dead, at least as far as I can tell."

The words stabbed Aragorn like a javelin through the heart only he thought this wave of information had to be far more painful than a physical wound. A physical wound could heal or if it killed you, it was more merciful. He felt himself reeling and Erestor's hands on his shoulders to steady him. The dark-haired immortal asked, "where is he being held?"

Caranfëa wheezed around a jolt of pain up his arm, "the back door, behind me, go through there and you shall find him. The other doors lead into the mines."

There was no way to save the little Elf now and it hurt both the companions deeply. "We shall return for you," said Aragorn reassuringly.

"Don't bother, I won't be here," said Caranfëa bitterly. "Thank you for your offer, though." He curled his knees into himself and braced his back against the wall of his dirt prison.

As he gazed up at the lantern, he felt his vision blur. He had more than broken his wrist. His insides were bleeding and he knew it. But he wasn't about to tell them. His time was over. Legolas was his prince and in a way his friend. Legolas had a chance.

Erestor just looked at Aragorn and the ranger's eyes were transfixed upon the sorrow stricken Elf below them. "Estel, you go and find Legolas, I am going to get him out." Erestor's face turned hard with a bright and fierce conviction. He was not going to leave this Elf to torment and death. If Aragorn went to get Legolas, they would have enough time.

Aragorn hesitated and opened his mouth to argue but the words didn't come. The snap of his jaw closing echoed throughout the room, bouncing off the damp rocks. He couldn't argue. First of all there was no time, secondly, he couldn't find the words to say.

He turned and began to run towards the door behind Caranfëa, with an accelerating heart as he predicted the horrible and heart slamming condition he would find his friend in. His hood fell back and the dark mantle of a cloak flapped behind him.

He place his hand on the door and pulled it open. What happened would be forever burned into his mind.

Legolas' head jerked up quickly. His eyes were large and Aragorn noticed that they were wet. Streaks ran down the cheeks from the red rimmed eyes against the dirty and bruise mottled face. The eyes not only spoke of a twinge of fear, but pain.

Aragorn saw the blood on his blonde friend's face and wounded and tired look that contorted Legolas' features that were usually so full of life. He noticed the droop on the proud shoulders and the thinner frame of Legolas body from starvation.

He wondered whom Legolas had expected, for the Elf just gapped but the fear had not left his face and the weariness remained. The immortal captive stammered in a hoarse whisper, "Estel?" The Elf blinked in disbelief. "Is it really you?"

Aragorn stumbled through his emotional pain and shock to the bars and put his hands on them. "Legolas, it is I. I have come. Don't worry. I am going to get you out of here," he promised with a choking voice that squeezed off towards the end. "You look terrible."

Legolas stumbled up and Aragorn hissed in deep sympathy as he saw the healing over wound on the Elf's chest and the way he walked with a limp. Aragorn saw stitches in the wound that ran the length of the Elf's upper leg. The legging was dirty and Aragorn felt a stab of worry when he realized that an infection was likely to set in. "Estel," Legolas repeated with a comfort filled voice as he saw his companion's friendly face again.

Aragorn reached a hand through the bars and he brushed Legolas' cheek. It felt so cold and the prince jerked away quickly as the man's fingers gently rubbed a bruise. "Legolas, you are freezing to death," noted the man anxiously. "You are starving!" He continued, "and look at your wounds!"

Legolas shook his head and said, "you have to leave! You are in grave danger!"

Aragorn felt his temper flaring up and he snarled at Legolas' cruel treatment, "never mind! Who did this to you?" The human's voice was thick with wrath. His fingers lightly ran over the laceration remains on the prince's chest and Legolas grasped his friend's hand tightly.

"Estel, please," begged Legolas urgently. "You are in grave danger! Please leave!" He had wanted to be rescued, but now that Aragorn had come, he was terrified for his friend's life. If that Dark Dúnadan, King, got hold of him he would do only Valar knew what to him.

Aragorn jerked at the rusty lock on Legolas' cage harshly and desperately, causing the jarring sound of metal on metal to ring through the room. "I don't care what they do to me my friend. I won't leave you here one more minute," guaranteed the ranger as he pulled at the lock some more.

Legolas reached through the bars and grasped the human's hand firmly in his cold one. "Aragorn," he said slowly. "I want you to leave and never come back."

Aragorn felt like he had just been struck by lightening. The pain of that statement was horrible. It was simply impossible to describe. He stammered, "Legolas are you sure that you are sane?"

"You are going to get killed," the prince said seriously as his eyes locked with Aragorn's in an intense and fearful look. "I want you to leave, now and promise me you will never return."

"I never thought I would live to see the day a friend of mine tells me to make a promise I can't keep!" snapped Aragorn bitterly. "You are out of your mind with weariness and sorrow." His eyes became hard as he addressed the Elf sternly.

Legolas unwound Aragorn's fingers from their tense grip on the lock and he folded them into the wavy-haired man's hand and held them there. "One of the things you need to learn is when to let go." He smiled. "You will be a great King, son of Arathorn. This is just another step you must take."

Aragorn felt tears spring into his eyes as he realized Legolas had given up. Of all the things he had believed in, this one was one thing he had always thought he would never see. He felt a sob building up inside, but he held it back and instead a cough broke lose, followed by a cascade of others that were far worse. Legolas gripped his shoulders through the bars to support him. "You are sick. Your father will be furious," he chided very much like a mother would.

"I can save you, Legolas," lamented the human quietly as he held Legolas' gaze. "I can't leave you here to die after a tormented life." He pulled free of the Elf's now loose grip and faced the prince. "I am going to stay with you if nothing else."

He knew he could not free Legolas. He could not open the lock and Legolas was still not thin enough to fit through the bars, but if his captor kept starving him he sure would. He would just have to get captured with Legolas to protect him.

Legolas cried in a torn voice that was broken up, "I won't let you Strider! No!" His face spoke of absolute trepidation. His eyes turned large in fear, as though a Balrog had just proclaimed him his next victim.

"It is the only way…the only way," said the man with a despairing shake of his head.

A cry came from the other room and Aragorn remembered Erestor with a jolt. "Oh-no!" he said. "Erestor!"

Legolas looked even more terrified, if that was possible. "Lord Erestor is here?" he asked in a trembling voice. "Estel, you have to get him out of here quickly. This man, King, he hates him with a passion. If he gets his hands on him, he will do something horrible to him."

Aragorn winced as another cry came from the room and he said, "sounds like it is too late to me." He turned and said, "I will be back Legolas! I promise mellon nin!"

He stumbled forward and out of the door. What he saw was shocking.

Erestor was in the pit by the red-haired Elf's side with his sword drawn. A grim and angered look adorned his features as he snarled, "Beleg," he addressed the man by his former name that had been too good for him."So this is the cruel business you have been about since you left?" His voice was thick and his eyes looked dangerous.

King laughed with icy merriment, "so you haven't heard about what happened about those poor Elves I killed?" He sighed in mock disappointment and said, "I shall have to remember to make better examples. Maybe I shall start with you, _counselor_!" Two men stood in the shadows, watching the conflict between Erestor and their leader with smirks.

"That wouldn't matter, _human_!" Erestor said confidently. "You can't intimidate a lot of Elves by killing a few. You will only succeed in making their vengeance the greater and far more satisfying."

"You are in no position to be speaking to me thus," said King in an equally smooth and yet threatening voice. He leveled his crossbow and said menacingly, "I have this aimed for your heart Erestor, unless you stop this foolish mutual insulting, then I shall be forced to shoot you. I really don't want to do that, we have hardly got to know each other."

Aragorn didn't know what to do. He watched with wide eyes and then he drew out his sword and it rang faintly. King jerked his eyes towards Aragorn and the noise. He saw the ranger and he aimed his bow with lethal accuracy towards Aragorn's forehead.

He never had the chance. Erestor lunged up and slammed his shoulder into King's violently, lurching the aim off course. But he was not able to spare himself getting inured and King's knife and quick reflexes turned out to be a force to he reckoned with.

The dark-haired adviser felt a stab of pain race through abdomen and he looked down to see a cut across his middle, flaring bright red in blood. It wasn't deep, but it was painful and he drew in a wheezing breath in the chock of it.

Aragorn was able to dodge the projectile meant to kill him and he leaped down to Erestor's aid. The counselor saw him and cried out abruptly and in dismay, "what are you doing?" The two men from the shadows ran forward with their crossbows bent as well, their aims on Aragorn and Caranfëa.

King suddenly came at the scholarly Elf and grasped hold of a lock of the dark hair, twisting it and forcing the injured Elf's head back, his chin pointing towards the ceiling. Erestor struggled and bucked in his grasp, but King placed his knife against the counselor's throat, pressing it in.

Caranfëa was up and as Aragorn was about to run towards Erestor despite the menacing arrows, he stopped the ranger. "He won't seriously hurt him yet," said the small red-head and he placed his good hand on the human's chest in a gesture to withhold him as King pulled Erestor around so his head was up against his chest and spat in the adviser's face;

"The tables have turned Elf."

Erestor struggled some more and said in an even voice was he felt his furor flaring up to match his stubborn pride, "human, you will regret this when my friend comes."

"Not likely," sneered the man as he forced Erestor's narrowed and stormy eyes to meet his. "Half of those Elves are dead, the others are in chains." Erestor' worked his jaw and kept the color on his face despite its want to drain away.

"How are you so sure?" asked the furious immortal as the man knocked his feet out from under him with a kick from his own, causing the counselor of Elrond to jerk against the blade that was against the bare skin of his neck. His abdomen wound stretched, causing considerable pain that made him want to curl into a tight ball.

King turned his bitter and yet amused glare upon Aragorn and Caranfëa. "Hello, ranger," he smiled brightly, but it was full of ice and steel and about as welcoming as the smile of a warg. "What brings you here?"

"I came for my friend," said Aragorn thickly, and around another set of coughs that threatened to erupt. He felt ill again. The room was growing cloudy to his eyes and he used all his strength to keep from falling over with dizziness. The venom was rebounding. He knew it.

"I am sorry to hear that," his consolation was less than appealing and anything but comforting. He ran the knife that he had against the struggling Elf's throat earlier along the adviser's ear tips as though deciding whether he should do away with the graceful points.

Frowning, he pulled Erestor up and said, "get on your feet." Erestor didn't do anything. He just met the man with a pair of ice edged eyes, narrow and furious. It was look that said, and-you-expect-me-to-do-that-why?"I hate you," said the man wearily. "You get on my nerves so."

"You are going to be even more sorry soon," spat Aragorn darkly at the other man before he made a move to go by Erestor's side.

"Drop your weapons ranger."

Legolas slammed himself against the bars of his cell and shook them frantically. He had bruises already forming on his upper arms from where he had thrown himself against the cage door.

Aragorn was out there and needed him. He didn't care about himself and his reached through the bar, grabbing the lock and pulling on it, banging it against the bars to no avail. "Estel!" he cried out in grief. "You are an idiot!" he wept, "a blessed, loyal idiot!"

He clashed against the bars once more and then he pressed his forehead against the cool metal in despair. He was so frightened and he felt so weak. Shivering now from cold and fear, the Elf just put all his weight against his forehead that was against the iron barriers.

He heard footsteps and saw Aragorn being dragged in with tight bonds on his wrists. The man pulling him in he immediately recognized as Jaerden, the man who had been responsible for the horrible torment he had recently under gone.

Aragorn's gray eyes met Legolas and they plainly said, _you aren't alone, mellon nin. I am here and I am not going to leave you. _

Legolas felt sick with fear, not for himself anymore, but for his friend. His felt his own clenched hands were cold and clammy. His tongue felt swollen in his mouth and his legs threatened to give under him. Willing them to stand took all of his strength.

He had to protect his friends.

The prince's eyes went hard and he glared, "let them go King."

He smiled and scoffed, "need another 'session', my little princling?" The smile grew to a broad grin and he said, 'luckily for you Legolas, I have a new toy. Lord Erestor shall be my new little project." He placed his hand in Erestor's ebony hair and was about to run his fingers through it tauntingly when the Elf yanked his head disdainfully away.

"Do _not _touch me," the litterateur of an Elf defiantly as he felt the crossbow's projectile point dig warningly into his spine, opposite his heart. Aragorn jerked in his bonds to try to get to Erestor's side. Jaerden held him tightly and twisted the cords so that they bit into Aragorn's flesh. He then jerked the young man sharply to the side, slamming him into the wall brutally.

The force of the blow stunned Aragorn for minute and everything seemed to merge into one blurry picture.

Legolas saw Aragorn's eyes go blurred and nearly cross. Had the moment not been so dire, the prince might have found it funny. Now he felt his anger flaring up and he commanded in a low and lethal voice, "don't do that again."

Jaerden asked in a sneer, "and what are you going to do about it Blue Eyes? He finished, referring the widened cerulean orbs. He twisted the bonds on the man's wrist tighter and Legolas' face seemed to get more furious and more anxious all at once. The captor smiled and said, "is this the friend you were waiting for, Elf?"

Legolas didn't answer, but his eyes spoke his fear and anger for him. They were hardened and looked like if he blinked they would shatter like glass. King commanded Jaerden, "place the ranger with Legolas."

The Dark Dúnadan then spun Erestor around to face him and said, "your accommodations are going to be a little different."

Erestor smirked, "if you say so." His voice was edged with bitterness and laced with sarcasm that he was unable to contain even if he had wanted to, which he didn't. His eyes spoke of a temper that was dangerous and barely being withheld. Erestor decided to hold it, only because if he let if rage out he would find himself in hotter water.

"If anything, over the years you have gotten more annoying," said the man tiredly and he sighed before saying as though he was talking to a honored guest, "well I would love to stay and chat, but I have Elves to cage and kill and a fight to attend tonight. So I will have to show you to your room and leave you alone for a time. Of course, you will have plenty of time to think about everything that has transpired."

"I think by 'room', you mean 'cell' and you aren't going to get away with this," he added flatly for what had to be around the third time.

"I prefer to call it a 'room'. After all, you are my guest, "said the man and he grinned. "I am getting away with it."

Erestor watched as Aragorn was shoved in with Aragorn and the door slammed so the offensive sound of metal on metal could be heard all around. He winced inwardly as he realized that Beleg now called King, was right and was getting away with this.

Deciding that being quiet would be a far better choice than saying something's that could be very satisfying to point out but more painful to pay for, Erestor just set his jaw and spared with King in a baleful glare.

The captor just returned it so equally that Erestor actually felt like he was nearly matched. A millennia old Elf-lord and his glare was matched by a mortal. It was insanely annoying. His wound began to throb and during the excitement and anxiety of the moment he had actually forgotten it. It must have felt the need to remind him of its painful existence.

Looking down at his abdomen, he saw the scarlet stain and the laceration, ugly and burning. It made him feel sick and so he tore his eyes from it as he was pulled along.

While Erestor was lead away to a prison far more in the back and in the darkness, Aragorn and Legolas had a chance to talk.

The prince's eyes looked like a severe thunderstorm had made its home in them and he snapped, "this has to be the most stupid thing you have ever done, ranger." Legolas placed his hand on Aragorn's forehead, checking the temperature and was not surprised to find it considerably high. "What were you thinking?" he growled.

Aragorn noticed the Elf's hand trembled and he said, "I was thinking of you, bloodied and in pain." He tried to pull away as the blonde being insisted on checking his pulse.

Legolas gripped his wrist hard and Aragorn said, "Ow! Alright!"

Displeased by what he found, Legolas shook his head and said, "if you get any worse you are in major trouble." The heartbeat was erratic and it was definitely getting slower, though it was strong. Then he asked a question as close to his heart as they came, "have you seen Rothinzil?"

The ranger paused in mid-breath and his eyes tore away from Legolas' frantic ones. "I am told he is dead."

Legolas looked away and his breathing became deep and stressed, like he was hurting physically. Which he was, but not that much. "How did he die?" asked the blonde immortal.

"I don't know, maybe he didn't."

As Aragorn looked at Legolas Elven face he suddenly wondered if he would ever see his friend laugh again. He loved how Legolas could find mostly anything humorous. But not this and Legolas' bright look in his eye had gone dull and his spirit seemed gutted. "How long has it been since you have laughed, mellon nin?"

"Too long. But I don't think I ever shall again."

Aragorn looked at Legolas with worried gray eyes and sorrow on his face. "Death comes in many forms, not least of which is spiritual." The prince smiled weakly and anyone could tell it was forced.

"You sure are optimistic."

"I am not the one giving up." He brushed Legolas' hand away from where they were checking his pulse again. "And stop that!"

"You need looked after," said Legolas matter-of-factly. "I really don't want you to leave me now." He wanted Aragorn to have escaped and was furious with the ranger for not but he couldn't stay angry for long. He finally had someone to talk to and it felt so good to get everything off his chest.

No it was Aragorn's turn to play the stubborn healer and he said, "what did they do to you?" He felt his throat constricting again as he thought of the first expression he had seen on Legolas' face. "Why was your face streaked with tears when I found you?"

Legolas knew it was no use denying he had been crying and he turned away. "They were very cruel. Can we leave it at that?" It was more of a statement than a question but all the same, it required an answer.

"No, we can't." The man sighed and placed his hand gently on Legolas' bare shoulder to spin the prince around. He jerked it back in alarm and said, "you are freezing!" For the first time he noticed the cold and their breath frozen in clouds after it left their mouths. Slipping his cloak off, he started to put on Legolas' shoulders.

"Don't you dare!" started the prince. Aragorn proceeded to give the prince the mantle. But he saw the whip weals on the Elf's back before he set the cloak on and hissed in sympathy. How much had they put Legolas through?

The Elf's voice was soft and quiet. "Thank you." He pulled the cloak tighter about himself. Aragorn nodded.

"You're welcome." He then asked the question again, "what did they do to you?"

Legolas began to shake and he stumbled over to the back of their prison to sit down in the straw. "They did a lot. Beat me, half drown me," As he spoke, he mouth throbbed and he winced. Aragorn then noticed the blood running from the corners and was immediately concerned about internal bleeding.

Legolas shook his head and said, "it isn't what you think." He felt the metallic taste of the chain return to his mouth as he said, "I was forced to wear a chain around my tongue so I could not eat, talk or drink."

Aragorn commanded firmly, "open your mouth."

Legolas was hardly willing to comply and he shook his head. "That sounds like something my mother would have said." He curled up into a tighter ball as he sat with his back to the prison wall. Suddenly he stiffened as he heard the scratching noise from the wall beyond. The rocs were back. "And that sound is the sound of orcs breaking in."

"I don't hear it," claimed the ranger as he strained his hearing to its limits. But he knew Legolas' hearing was at least ten times as strong as his own.

"Neither does King or Jaerden. But they have only to remove an large boulder before they break through and wreak havoc." Although, right now the prospect of orcs and death seemed a welcome thing. He placed his chin on his knees and said, "I am glad you are the one with me. Here at the end of all hopes and dreams. I was wrong to be so ungrateful for your gift and sacrifice of companionship at this moment. Forgive me, Estel."

Aragorn was surprised Legolas could say his Elvish name with a straight face. He obviously didn't believe in it. "There is nothing to forgive, my friend." Then he said in a serious voice, "You have come this far. If you give up now, you are lost. Legolas, hold on and believe just a little longer, things will change soon."

King strode by and he looked all too happy and content for the blonde Elf and the ranger's comfort. The way he walked gave Legolas the feeling that things were about to get far worse than they ever could have imagined.

>>>>>>>>>>

Rothinzil and Elméra crouched in the shadows as they heard harsh voices say in deep and cruel tones, "stop yer struggling! You will only make it worse for yerselfs!" Roth looked at her and she at him in confusion. He then recalled Aragorn and knew that if the man were still alive, he would have gone for help. He also knew Celebalda would not remain idol in this situation.

Wondering who was in King's grasp now and Calmir's, he did not have to wait long. Elméra clasped his hand tightly as three Elves were dragged into view. Heavy chains were about their feet and hands and their normally graceful movements were clumsy. One, Roth noticed, was bleeding from his mouth and his face was incomparably whiter than the others.

He was even more alarmed to find that this Elf was Thalionril, a friend of his whom was engaged. He Celebalda walking closely by the wounded Elf that was obviously at death's door, supporting him and keeping him from falling and being cut down.

Celebalda's jaw was set and anger flashed in his eyes. He glared at the man leading him by a length of chain. Roth did not recognize this man, but he definitely knew the one who followed. Calmir. The man was helping to drive the Elves towards their captivity.

"Thalionril, damn it, what happened to you?" asked the dark-haired warrior to himself as Elméra glanced at him and her face was a shade of white in horror.

Thalionril stumbled and Rothinzil watched as Celebalda protected him against a flurry of blows with his own body. Thalionril was like a son to him andhe had an obligation to bring his daughter's fiancé home.

Once the troop of captives had passed, Rothinzil and Elméra sprang out of the shadows and watched the last of the men disappear down the passageway. Rothinzil was beside himself. "What ever happened had to have been beyond horrible. Celebalda never goes with only two Elves with him, two must have died or more."

This made anger burn hot in Rothinzil's heart and he said, " Elméra I do not ask you to come with me."

"I know," she said, quietly and stood by his side with his sword in her hand. Her long red hair was pulled back in a single braid to keep it out of the way.

"If this happened to Celebalda and if Aragorn were with him and his battalion, then Estel is…dead." Roth winced and he shivered. "Then everything is failing." He wanted to kill every man here and he had never felt that way before.

Going back down the corridor, the way the men had came, they traced everything that must have happened. Torches had been lit in the halls, by the men to see by as they guided their captives back to their waiting prisons.

Then they saw the holocaust.

Two Elves lay dead, many wounds in their bodies and their eyes looking up at nothing. A glassy layer ran over the degenerate orbs and their faces were drained of any color or sign of life.

The bodies of ten men lay dead about the two beings whose souls were now submitted to Mandos. Each of the men's bodies had an Elven arrow in their forehead or chest or the quick swipe of an Elven knife in their throat. They had died mercifully, but the Elves had received no mercy.

A blood puddle was formed from the river running from one Elf's mouth. Roth recognized him. Galanim, "White Tree", one of the Elves from his own contingent. He was certainly white now, thought Rothinzil ironically. He looked and saw a javelin ran through the Elf's mid section and an arrow sticking from his chest. His death had been far from swift and far from painless.

Cradling the limp and cold body, Roth felt sick. He ran his fingers along the dead being's cold cheek and said, "why? Why you?" A tear sprang from his right eye and then one dripped from his left before they all came down like rain.

Elméra hung in the back, the sight of all the blood and carnage making her ill and she felt that this was a personal thing she could not interfere with. Grasping her lover's blade tightly, she wanted to comfort him. But she could not. There were no words of consolation that would sooth his immense sorrow. Elves, she realized for the first time were also cursed, for their anguish was the deepest ever delved by any living creature.

Roth finally laid the dead Elf down and taking the murdered being's sword, he curled the cold and stiffening fingers about the hilt, leaving the sword to rest in Galanim's chest, where his heart would beat no more.

He felt numb now. He knew he was angry…no, furious….but he could not feel it. He felt absolutely nothing as he kneeled by the body of his friend and warrior.

How could they just murder them in cold blood like this? How?

He would never know the answer.

A sound of shuffled and uneven movements rustled through the air and he looked over to see a shadow like figure rise from behind a large rock. The golden head shook dust from its hair and then the large pair of blue eyes blinked as though the being had awakened from a deep sleep.

"Glorfindel?" asked Rothinzil in shock. He stammered, "you are alive?"

"Am I?" asked the Gondolin Elf stupidly as he stood up. "I feel dead." He scrutinized the Elf and maiden before him and then asked Roth a question in turn. "how is t that you are here, alive and walking free? Where is Legolas, Erestor and Estel?"

"I do not know. Celebalda, and two of his warriors were taken captive." He looked at the slain bodies of his friends and said, "a couple of murders were committed as well."

Glorfindel frowned and he walked over to stand by Rothinzil, "I know, we were ambushed. We didn't have a chance. I sent Erestor and Estel away before the fray got out of hand. I hope they at least made it."

"I do not know, but Thalionril is wounded and dying. Soon only two will be left alive that I saw. Celebalda and one other whose face I could not make out in this dim light."

Glorfindel looked at Elméra and smiled, "find someone finally Rothinzil?" The dark-haired Elf flushed and stepped closer to her as an answer. The Gondolin Elf smiled inspite of the dark situation and shook his head as he said, "she is very pretty, I give you that, my friend."

Elméra flushed this time and put her left arm through Roth's and leaned on his shoulder. He took her hand and gripped it gently. She shivered against him as she felt him so close. Elven though she could not see past his hood, she knew his eyes were sparkling.

"She is," answered the warrior sweetly and she laid her head on his shoulder, for a brief moment forgetting the darkness and despair of the dangerous circumstances.

Then the one peaceful moment ended abruptly as Glorfindel saw the bodies of the dead Elves, lying cold and forlorn. Their faces were peaceful and there was no pain and fear, just cold and lifelessness.

They were no longer immortal, they had become mortal. Rothinzil shivered as he realized he would someday look that way, white, frigid and limp. Empty.

Glorfindel said sadly, "they shouldn't have died. They were so young for Elves. So this is what we are dealing with, a bunch of cold-blooded murderers." He felt his throat constricting and he seemed to be held in a trance as he looked at the glassed over eyes.

Bending down, he shut one of the Elves' eyes and was about to shut Galanim's, but Roth stopped him and said tearfully, "no, I will do it." And he slid his fingers delicately over the eyes lids, shutting them…forever.

**TBC………..Review please? Thank you so much. We love those…a lot. **

**Yup, now things are getting good. Aragorn has found Legolas, and been slammed around a bit, Erestor has met Beleg aka: King. Ahhhhhh…what a nice reunion. Life is so good. We had a chance to have some heavyhearted death scenes too. -**_contented sighs-_ **Yes, that is what makes this whole writing thing enjoyable. Okay, we know, we can be evil, but isn't it such fun? LOL **

**Much angst to come next chapter! We should post Wednesday, but if we don't we will say this now...MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS! **

**Review Responses:-) Thank you for these! **

**Deana: **Yes! REALLY REALLY REALLY poor Leggy! Thanks for the cute review!

**Li Cwick: **Yup!.. Aragorn to the rescue! Or….maybe not. Thanks for the sweet review!

**Elitenschwein: **Yes, lots more Aragorn angst, if you can hold out a few more chapters. LOL Thanks for the nice review!

**Sorry if these are brief, but we have pressing things to do at school. **


	21. A Day to Die

_**CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE **_

_A Day to Die _

_If you would lift me up you must be on higher ground.  
--Ralph Waldo Emerson_

Celebalda inwardly screamed at himself as he held tried to help Thalionril cling to life as they were dragged to small inhumane cells that he had the perception to know they were going to die in. The shackles on his ankles and wrists made him feel inferior and angered him. He felt his temper flaring.

However, unlike Legolas, Aragorn and others he knew, when he got angry or was captured he shut himself down and was quiet. He felt his rage still peaking as he felt his daughter's beloved shivering, not in fear, but against the cold creeping into his blood as the arrow embedded in his chest and the gapping hole in his abdomen from a javelin piercing him manifested and wreaked havoc through out his system.

His lips were gray and blue tinted as his face seemed to be depleting of color. His bright eyes had turned shady and had a shivery glaze over them. He spoke to Celebalda as he felt his life feeling his body ad his spirit preparing to depart. "My cc-c-captain, I am…s-s-s-or-sorry…if I f-f-failed…y-y-you." His lips trembled and his neck strained as he struggled to keep his windpipe open for air.

Thalionril stumbled and he found he could not rise. He tried, but he realized quickly that he was not going to ever get up again. Celebalda struggled to try and carry the other Elf, but he could not lift him and the warrior whispered, "it is-t-t-time." His broken and slurred speech was a torment to Celebalda's heart.

Celebalda pulled his ghostly warrior and friend closer despite his shackles. Hugging Thalionril to his chest so the younger Elf could look into his eyes he said, "I would have been honored to have you for a son and my daughter was lucky to have found someone as brave and dear as you." He gently shook the younger Elf and said, "just stay with me."

Thalionril's eyes could no longer focus and now he was shaking and Celebalda could tell he was frightened of the death and chill he could not understand.

The captain was jerked away and Thalionril gasped as his body was sharply jarred. In panic Celebalda asked, "what are you doing?"

Calmir came up with a crossbow and grinned. "I am finishing the job." He placed a bolt into the bow and made sure the string was ready. His eyes spoke of amusement and actual joy and lust to see this young Elf die at his hand.

Celebalda hated men who compensated for their own problems at other's expense. And when they killed in cold blood he felt his blood boil and the pressure rise. "You cold-hearted spawn of Mordor!" he cried angrily. "Can't you see he is dying? Just let me be by his side. He is frightened!"

"Well he won't be in a minute. He will be dead and at peace," Thalionril just looked at Celebalda as he seemed to be begging his captain to save him. But Celebalda could do nothing. He was helpless and because he was helpless, his warrior and friend was helpless.

Calmir aimed the bolt for thestruggling heart of Thalionril and smiled as he drew back the large, feathered shaft. Celebalda screamed and struggled against the men holding him back, "you can't! You are insane!" The other Elf with Celebalda and Thalionril just looked shocked and his face went completely white as he watched the bow being drawn back.

Thalionril felt a blazing pain in his heart and it raced through his entire body as the shaft buried itself in his rib cage, hitting the heart. Then he felt everything go still and the last thing he saw before blackness claimed him and he felt no more and knew no more was the face of Celebalda, watching him get murdered.

The captains mouth was moving, screaming, but he didn't hear it. He saw the lips forming words, but they were not heard by him and then he fell into blackness. And pleasantly, he felt no more of anything and his troubles were over.

"You didn't have to do that!" snapped Celebalda as he was forced to walk a few feet further. Calmir looked at the dead Elf, with the peaceful look in his eyes and the blood trickling from his mouth and nose. He was gone and it made the man feel good.

"Elf, we lost ten men back there to your loss of three." He fixed his crossbow and said, "I can make four Elves be dead if you like."

"Go ahead and kill me. I have nothing else to lose." The Elven captain watched the human with wrathful eyes.

"No, that would be too good for your kind," he spat. "We will get our revenge eventually."

Footsteps echoed in the darkness before them and King was standing before Calmir. His eyes darkened as he saw the body of Thalionril at the other man's feet and Celebalda struggling between two more men. He was hard to restrain and they were muttering constant curses under their breath.

"What is this?" he dug his toe under the shoulder of the dead Elf's body pointedly. "Why?"

"He was already severely wounded and dying. He was slowing us down and wasn't going to make it. I sped up the process," explained Calmir gruffly and without the slightest bit of regret. He reached down and twisted the arrow from the Elf's breast and looked at the tip. It was still good and useable.

"You are insane," said King as he watched the whole process with disdain. He hated Calmir with a with a passion. He was a sick and totally mad man. He knew that the man loved the whole slaughter and murder of the Elves. He knew that the other man felt good about putting a bolt through this dead being's heart. It was enough to make him sick.

He knew that he himself had problems, but he never enjoyed torturing a victim, except Erestor. That was going to such fun, he thought with a slight smile. But other than that, he did it to get a point across. He didn't enjoy it. Killing them was loved and hated by him. It was revenge, yes, but somehow it never felt sweet.

"Well then, take the others, _alive_ and secure them in their cells prepared for them. I have to get everything ready for the fight tonight. Have you fed your warg lately?" he asked, interested..

"Not recently. I haven't had a thing to feed her," he complained almost angrily.

"How does she feel towards Elf?" Celebalda stiffened and he looked at his companion, whose eyes were huge.

"I hardly think she will object," answered the man in pleasant tone that was surprising for one of his unsteady behavior.

"I have an Elf I can't afford to keep any longer. That red-headed one, you remember?" he asked tersely as he began to walk away. "If you want to, you can feed him to her, he's got a broken wrist and some other injuries down in The Pit."

Celebalda immediately bristled at the description of the sacrificial Elf. There was only one redheaded male Elf that he knew of who was missing, and that was his son. Perhaps it as an Elf of Rivendell, but he tended to doubt it. Elves of Rivendell were typically blonde or dark of hair, being Noldor Elves. Jerking in his bonds he said, "you can't just do that! You can't sacrifice a living being like that!" He wasn't about to include the fact that it was his son, incase he might make things even more dangerous.

"Can and am," said the man honestly. Calmir nodded and muttered,

"Sure, my warg will dispose of him. I imagine you don't really care whether my beast starves or is fat and full, you want that Elf gotten out of the way." King grinned in a way that said he couldn't very well argue with that assertion.

Celebalda growled, "you are both insane! What do you want us for anyway? Why don't you kill us and have done?" He glanced sidelong at his captive warrior.

King came and taking a club he had been carrying hr placed it under the captain's chin and forced Celebalda's face to be level with his own. "Because dead Elves are worthless." Celebalda didn't pull his head away, but met the man's gaze exactly, with the proper manner of defiance and loathing. "Of course, I don't want to hurt you, really. I take no pleasure from _your _pain. But I have to make money and so if I have to break you in the process, that is your fault, not mine."

"Of course," answered Celebalda in a bitter and cold tone that was purely sardonic.

King said with a serious scowl, "glad you and I understand one another, Captain." Celebalda knitted his brows in anger at his rank being used against him. "A pretty worthless captain I might add. Who leads their men into a trap and sacrifices their lives while coming out alive himself?"

These words bit deeply into Celebalda's heart. King was right. And the captain did regret coming out of it alive and not going to see Mandos with Thalionril and his other Elves. He would regret it forever and he knew it. Unless he died here. He wanted very much to die here.

King watched the hurt and wounded look melt into the dark-eyes of the captive Elf. He saw the eyes were slightly damper than they had been before and he knew he had found the Elf's weakness. Celebalda just looked at the ground in shame and he felt the hot tears coming to his eye corners.

Did the men think he had wanted this? To have his Elves, his daughter's beloved with them, die a painful and totally unmerciful death? Two of which he never got to bid farewell to? Their death's stung his heart as much as lemon juice in a paper cut would, if not more so.

Trembling slightly he just sighed tiredly and then looked back at King with a dangerous glow in his eyes. "You will die for this, human. I promise you that. You have just called the wrath of King Thranduil down upon yourself! I will seek retribution myself!" he pledged.

As the men began to pull the helpless Elven captain away to place him in his prison further down the twisted corridors and hidden doors, King called after him. "And how shall you seek retribution?"

King watched them go and then left in the direction of The Pit where Caranfëa was trapped.

He reached it short of ten minutes and he looked at the Elf he had left in it. "Caranfëa, UI suppose you know I am not about to rescue you. I promised you that before."

"I could careless human," he hissed as he cradled his broken wrist that was throbbing. His bright green eyes had less fire in them than before, but they still seemed bright and malignant.

"Good, I will make sure the warg disposes of you before the huge fight," he said forwardly as he stared down the small being.

"Thank you for being so very polite and understanding," muttered the red-haired Elf darkly with a twist of his head to get his hair away from his face.

The man just shrugged. Then he said, "your little pampered prince has got get ready for the big fight tonight." Caranfëa just looked at his wrist and its odd angle. It was bent off to the inside and it was likely that if he did escape his archery days were over.

Hearing the footsteps of his tormenter leaving the room and going in the other room to antagonize Legolas, the small Elf finally closed his eyes and let his thoughts go back to peaceful memories, before he had found himself here, before he had ever been captured the first time.

>>>>>>>>>>

Erestor carefully peeled the tunic pieces away from the gash he had received on his abdomen. It wasn't deep, he decided as he felt the warm blood on his fingertips. But that didn't make it any less painful. He felt his muscles convulsing in agony and he cringed in the dark.

Sweat pooled on his forehead and he breathed unevenly. He was grateful his insides weren't ripped out. However, he had no doubt that with King's utter hatred for him that they would be before the end.

The dark-haired Elf knew that Legolas and Aragorn were nearby in a cell further up by the door. That was a small comfort, but it also it angered him they were still held here and he worried for the ranger and Legolas' safety, so really, when he looked closely at it, it wasn't any sort of comfort at all.

He leaned back against the cold wall and wheezed a little in his agony. For once he wished that Glorfindel were here. He was a friend with that foolish, insane Gondolin Elf, whether he wanted to be or not and he need someone to lean on an help him.

But if Glorfindel was insane, he told himself mentally, then he certainly was as well, whether he admitted it or not. He also was shocked that he realized why the twins, Estel, Rothinzil, Ancú and Legolas came home in tatters. But the had to wonder why they had so many enemies.

"Glorfindel,'' he murmured out loud, "if you are out there you had better hurry up and not delay, leaving me here to be tortured more than is necessary."

His Elven ears picked up the sound of footsteps and he saw King come in as the door opened and the man's silhouette showed in the doorframe. Narrowing his eyes, he prepared mentally to get put through the ringer.

However, the man didn't come his way and went to Legolas and Aragorn's dungeon.

Legolas was asleep, his head resting gently on Aragorn's shoulder and his breath coming in quiet and peaceful inhales and exhales. His blue eyes were shut, but his face appeared peaceful, for the first time in a long time.

Aragorn gingerly, so as not to wake or alarm his sleeping friend, pulled the cloak tighter around Legolas' thin frame. The prince didn't even stir. Aragorn looked at the door as he saw it open and fear gripped his heart.

He had only gotten Legolas to relax enough to rest a little while ago. He didn't know what King had in store for his friend, but he didn't want Legolas to go through anymore. Legolas didn't deserve to get hurt anymore. He would much rather take everything for him.

King watched the pair of friends for a moment and then he walked over and leaned against the bars casually. "He is getting tired, you know that, don't you ranger?" The captor said skeptically, "I never understood what we are expected to see in Elves. I was a ranger once you know."

Aragorn did not answer for a moment and then he said, "if I begged for him, would you leave him be? Would you let him go?" He looked at the still sleeping Elf and felt Legolas stir to try and find a more comfortable position before falling into a deep slumber again.

"No," retorted King gruffly and with a snicker in his voice, "why should I?"

"I will do-"

"Anything?" finished the man scornfully. "That's what they all say, but in the end, they don't. Anyway, your time will come, ranger. Don't be too eager now." He produced the key from his pocket and as soon as it hit the lock, Legolas was awake.

His blue eyes were blurred and he looked first at Aragorn and then at the man in the doorway. The ranger felt Legolas cringe back and it broke his heart. But he also felt the anger radiating from the prince.

"What is going on?" he asked softly in Elvish.

"Legolas, do not use that tongue here!" snapped King. "Now get up and come here."

Aragorn reached under the cloak and held Legolas' hand for comfort to the Elf as much as to himself. Giving it a tight squeeze he willed his friend to be strong.

Legolas was and Aragorn felt proud of his friend.

"I told you I do not respond to being called like a dog. You can ask me, you shall never command me," he growled spitefully in his native tongue. If he didn't want to use Westron, there was no way King was going to make him. His blue eyes seemed to crust over with ice and steel.

King looked weary and said, "I suppose I shall have to re-teach you everything, princling." Legolas felt his stomach lurch. He didn't think he could survive that again.

He walked towards Legolas to jerk the Elf up and Aragorn stood up and stepped protectively before his friend. If King wanted to get to Legolas, he was going to have kill him first. Clenching his fists, Aragorn prepared to go at King with only his bare hands.

"You aren't honestly going to risk your life for a half dead Elf, are you?" asked King and he laughed. "That's a pretty bad trade if you ask me."

"Which I didn't," said the ranger firmly. His eye stayed locked on the other man's every move.

"Oh, I know."

Legolas watched Aragorn stand protectively over him and he hissed angrily and defensively, "don't Strider! What in the Valinor do you think you are doing?" The Elf's voice sounded shrill. Struggling and stumbling, the blonde being was on his feet and he said, "this is my battle. You cannot fight it for me, my friend."

"Can't I?" asked Aragorn bitterly as he faced King.

King suddenly grabbed Legolas by the cloak and twisted it so it half choked the Elf. He then pulled Legolas close. "Look here, Blue Eyes, do not mess with me today!" He gave the cloak another twist, making it tighter and leaving a thin passageway for the air to reach Legolas' desperate lungs. The prince didn't struggle. King watched as the Elf continued to defy him and with another twist, he had the airway completely squeezed off.

Legolas felt all his blood rushing to his face and his eyes felt as though they were going to pop out. He refused to struggle. He would not give the man the satisfaction of seeing he was too weak to pull away. But King knew and he watched as Legolas' lips turned blue and his eyes began to glaze over.

Legolas' fingers began to claw at the man's arms, but he made no other moves, except beginning to collapse on his knees.

Aragorn seemed entranced by the whole turn of events. He could not take his eyes off Legolas' blue face and the way the Elf jerked his fingers spasmodically on the other's arms.

Something snapped abruptly and the ranger through himself against Legolas' tormentor, forcing King to release his grip on Legolas' cloak that was wrapped about his throat. The ranger then gripped the ex-ranger by his shirt and tore him away from Legolas.

The Elf crumpled to the ground, his hands on his neck and it was all he could do to draw one breath and live. Everything was blurry and swirling.

He watched as King flung Aragorn from him, slamming the young man into the wall. Aragorn felt dizzy. His head hurt where it had smacked against the wall with the jolting force of the blow.

King then turned his attention back onto the blonde Elf, who was still wheezing and tasting how sweet the dank air was to his starved lungs.

>>>>>>>>>

Rothinzil and Elméra, followed by Glorfindel entered the Ring to where the fight was going to be held. It was beginning to fill with people. Men were already making bets and Roth pulled Glorfindel back as he backed out. "I have got to go in there," he told Elméra and Glorfindel anxiously.

"Not a good idea," said Glorfindel. "You will be captured and killed before you can so much as blink."

"I can't help that," said Rothinzil adamantly. He said, "I am part human, with my ears hidden and my hair pulled back, I will look like-"

"An Elf," finished Glorfindel. "You still are far more fair featured than any of those men could ever hope to be and it will stand out." Elméra placed a hand on Roth's shoulder.

"I don't want you to get killed Roth. If Calmir catches you again, he will not let you go easily," she reminded with moist eyes as she realized she was going to have to let him go.

"I can't help that. What will be is what will be," he answered in frustration.

Glorfindel frowned and said, "well if you are going in there, I am coming with you."

"With your golden hair you will stand out like a sore thumb!" protested the dark-haired Elf tenaciously. He looked at the Gondolin Elf with trepidation.

"I do not care. I am not going to let you go in there alone _pen-neth_." Glorfindel pulled his hood over his face and tucked his hair back. His ears were hidden and his hod was deep, so in all fairness he was well concealed.

"There is no way I am going to stop you, is there?" asked the warrior with a tired smile. He shivered slightly as his wound sent a shocking pain through his system. But pushing the rebounding pain aside, he said, "Well then let us go."

Beginning to go back into the room, Roth felt Elméra's hand clutched his cloak and he spun around to face her, "not you too."

"Yes, me too. I can't abide here, wondering fearfully whether you are captured or dead, or in pain," she pleaded earnestly for his understanding. Her eyes were narrowed and watched his face.

"I suppose I can't stop you," he concluded. He took her hand and said, "very well then. Together." His smile made her smile.

All three were walking into something they might never come out of. But all three friends had smiles on their faces knowing somehow that evverything had a chance at being okay. Anyway, it seemed like a good day to die.

**TBC…Sorry, we know, bad place to end and a short chapter. Hey, hope you all had a nice Christmas or whatever you celebrate if you know what we mean. After all, is al****l around the world. Happy early New Years! **

**Yes, Thalionril is dead. -sigh-. Poor thing. Why do we feel so happy? Must be our evil side grinning. -both shrug- **

**Please review. **

**And now here are the responses:) Thank you to you all. **

**Snow Glory: **Well, well now, what a bright out look on things you have! But yes, Legoals isn't one easily to come out of despair, though he would try and fool you. Hehehehehe, things could be worse, you know. Wonder if Legolas loves it as much as you do. LOL Thanks for the review.

**Deana: **Awwww...geethanks.

**lil Cwick: **Thats so sweet, thank you! -Both bow dramatically-

**Marie Delcore:** Dearest, you flatter us! Evil? -authors look aghast- Us? Now where in the world did that little thought come from? Certainly not fromtthe tragic deaths. LOL Yes, well Erestor won't be happy. Thats certain. And wait until Glorfindel gets ahold of anyone who would dare to touch his -cough- friend -cough- Thanks for the review.

**elitenschwein:** Wonder if Aragorn feels the same way about that good ol' angst. LOL And never fear, more is coming. Lots more! If not carefully distributed though. Thanks for that...interesting...review. LOL

**Astievia: **Yes, Erestor has met his true mortal enemy number one (and he's not golden-haired) Yes, very interesting...or slightly surprising...thanks for the review.

**bumbleflies and butterbees:** Thanks for the review. We try to make the plot twisty and misleading.Glad you listen to that music too. It is so nice, isn't it? Which artists/groups are the ones you like?

**

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	22. Each to Their Own Battles

_**CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO**_

_Each to Their Own Battles _

_"By nature, men are nearly alike; by practice,  
they get to be wide apart."_

_----Confucius_

Celebalda was shoved into a small cage with his companion. He was shackled firmly to the wall with his ankles and wrists in heavy manacles. He glared at Calmir and then just set his jaw, refusing to speak to these men that as far as he was concerned he had nothing more to do with.

Calmir just laughed and said, "I have more important things to tend to, like cleaning up the bodies of your little fool warriors. Oh, and killing that little redheaded Elf. Not to mention preparing to annihilate your little prince with my warg."

He smiled as he watched Celebalda's hurt eyes. They were narrow and pain filled, beautifully pain filled he thought. All Elves had beautiful eyes while they were in pain. Celebalda sensed the eyes watching him and he shifted uneasily in his chains. "You have done enough, can't you go ahead and leave me alone?" he asked gruffly under the man's scrutinizing eyes.

"Shut up Elf!" he said angrily and then walked towards the door. Over his shoulder he said, "when I get back, I will teach you what pain is." The he slammed the door blowing out a torch and leaving the room pitch dark.

Celebalda sulked and he whispered to his companion, "_Amin n'rangwa edanea_ (I don't understand these humans) Shaalth, are you well?" He asked.

"I am fine, sir," answered the other. Celebalda heard the shift of chains in the dark and the Elf continued, "sir, are you well yourself?"

"I am fine, thank you," his voice was low and quiet. He sounded anything but fine. He had let his men down so horribly he could never be fit to lead again.

Shaalth said, "with all due respect sir, you don't sound fine at all."

"Are you questioning my honesty, Shaalth?" He shook his head and said, "but I concede I am not well. I have let you all down," he admitted gloomily. He just could not live with himself, not after seeing his dead warrior's faces. They were so pale, so degenerate, so lost and yet at home.

Shaalth sighed and said, "sir, you could not have prevented it."

This was not helping Celebalda's mood and he said, "honesty is the best policy, Shaalth. You shouldn't lie, you know."

"I am sorry sir, but I was being honest," spoke the Elf forthrightly.

Celebalda just sighed and said, "then you are a fool, but I thank you. However, I am not exactly comforted."

Shaalth said, "I wasn't trying to comfort you."

"Now you lie."

Shaalth just grinned in the dark despite these far from happy situations.

>>>>

Rothinzil, Glorfindel and Elméra stood in the back of the room, slowly working their way around men and towards the pit.

It was not a hard task, for the men were too busy making bets with one another and talking amongst themselves they didn't notice the isolated three creeping towards The Pit. It was Glorfindel's sharp eyes who saw Caranfëa in a corner, awaiting his death.

Narrowing his blue orbs, the Gondolin Elf whispered to Rothinzil, "what Elf is that?"

Roth squinted and stared at the little red-head before saying, "I can't say I know him. Should we try to get him out?" It as going against their original mission, but he couldn't very easily leave the little Elf in there to die the death he nearly did. He had been there and felt the frightening sensation of death creeping on him and the pain of the wound. Now he wanted to spare anyone else that pain.

Grimacing he thought of Legolas. They did not have much time. Legolas could be dead. Glorfindel wanted to find Erestor and Celebalda along with Estel. For them time was short as well.

Rothinzil looked at Elméra and at Glorfindel before saying. "I will get him out of there. But there is one thing I want you two to do. …Talk me out of it."

Glorfindel scowled and said, "funny. Can't you ever be serious?"

"Not easily, Lord Glorfindel," came Roth's cool response as he walked closer to the edge of The Pit. Elméra smiled despite the situation and she nearly laughed. Rothinzil had a knack for either making her furious or hysterical with laughter. Either those two or she was frightened out of her mind for his safety.

The dark-haired Elf crept around the gapping hole in the ground and as he did, he saw his own puddle or dried blood, still there and stopped for a moment, shuddering. But he had to push past that, or his friends would suffer the consequences as well as would he. But he felt his wound wreaking havoc throughout his body with horrible pain as it fired up at the memories.

Swallowing hard, he continued to walk towards the corner where the little Elf was resting his chin on his knees in despair. The warrior felt like he had every pair of eyes on his back. It made him feel sick and as he clenched his hands he felt them slick with sweat.

He was over the little Elf's head and he whispered hoarsely, "hey, what are you doing down there?"

Caranfëa looked up and said, "waiting to die and what are you doing up there?" he questioned back. His tone was depressed and accepting. It broke Roth's heart to hear an Elf with that diminished of a spirit.

"Give me your hand, I can save you," he hissed in a murmur. Extending a hand, he closed it and opened it pointedly. "Reach," he called down in a hushed voice.

"You would want to save me?" asked Caranfëa in a surprised and yet quiet voice. "But you can't! Now if you excuse me, I am waiting to die, of course if you would be really kind, speed up the process."

"Why would I do that when I can save you?" asked Roth with his heart in the question. He couldn't believe what he was being asked to do. It was too much. Withdrawing his hand he whispered, "please, I want to save you. You can still live. Now take my hand!" He reached down again and Caranfëa just stared up at his face.

"I know you, you are the one Legolas rescued. Now I can see you are insane!" he finished. Roth just stared down with a pleading face that said plainly he was never going to give up. The red-haired Elf found the look annoying. "What is with you?" he asked with a stab of irritant.

"Everyone has the right to life, hope and happiness. I know what it is like to be without them. Now take my hand," he added at the end, hoping to feel the little Elf's hand in his. He looked into a hard staring pair of green eyes.

"Sorry," said Caranfëa astringently and he looked straight ahead. Drawing a deep breath, he refused to look at the Elf above him. What would happen if he were pulled out. It wouldn't change anything. He was going to die eventually here. There was no escape. You could avoid the men for a time, but he knew that you could never fully escape.

Roth plead firmly and adamantly, "I know you really want to be saved and I can pull you out. We can't get Legolas out alone. You owe at least that much to him, even if you don't give an orc's behind about your own life!" The dark-haired Elf scowled and spoke slowly, "now give me your hand!"

More men were coming in. So far they had not taken notice, but if Roth heard the conversation right earlier once the warg was brought in to devour the little Elf, then they would pay attention and was only a matter of moments.

Glorfindel and Elméra watched anxiously. "He is going to get caught," whispered the maiden fearfully and she bit her lips so hard the bruise broke and it began to bleed anew. Glorfindel put his strong hand on her thin shoulder.

"You are going to have to learn that with love comes the responsibility of knowing when to let go and when to hold on." The Gondolin Elf smiled and said wisely, "Rothinzil is a warrior and not only that, he is the captain of warriors. You can't protect him and if anything, he will die protecting you." He nodded his head, "it is out of our control now."

The woman felt her eyes growing wide as she watched Roth continue to talk with the little Elf in hushed tones. Glorfindel just looked at the ground with narrowed eyes and a knitted brow. He hated feeling this helpless and it bothered him that Erestor was still missing along with Aragorn. He knew what had befallen Celebalda and Thalionril along with Shaalth, even though that didn't make it any easier to accept.

"Please," begged Rothinzil as he felt his patience growing thinner than he ever expected it could. His eyes narrowed and his eyebrows came together in anger and frustration.

"I can't," answered the red-haired immortal with a sorrowful tone. He now realized that Roth really wanted to save him and that he only had moments to get out.

"Valar! Why not?" Rothinzil nearly shouted at the other Elf in his exasperation.

"I-I-I…broke my wrist," explained the little being with much hesitation. For once he had failed and it hurt his pride, deeply. "And I have some other internal wounds besides."

"Give me your good hand and I will pull you up," said Roth. "I promise not to drop you." He reached further down so Caranfëa could get a good grip.

Skeptically, the other grabbed Roth's outstretched hand and then clutched it tightly. The Mirkwood warrior gripped the smaller Elf's hand back and began to pull. He felt his own wound stretching and a great pain blazed throughout his insides.

Caranfëa was gradually being pulled out and Glorfindel came up behind Rothinzil to support the other Elf. He gripped the dark-haired Elf's shoulders and Elméra kept watch over the warriors carefully, incase some might try and stop them. The maiden bit her nail and inwardly smacked herself as she realized she was doing such a horrid habit.

Once Caranfëa was out, he as certainly capable of walking on his own and demanded to be let go.

Elméra beckoned them quickly to come back to the corner of the room with her. All three Elves quickly followed and the companions ducked behind an accumulation of discarded and broken barrels. Caranfëa glared out at the men with calculating eyes as he took in the atmosphere of the room.

Holding his wrist still close to his stomach, the little Elf said, "they will bring out the warg soon. But when they discover I am gone, we had better be as good as gone." He licked his dry lips and hissed, "the warg comes hither."

The creature was huge. Her hair was ruff and bristled and her little yellow eyes, like amber beads, glared at everyone in the room, as she was lead on her chain leash. She snapped at anyone who came too close and then sniffed the air. Rothinzil shivered and he wondered if she could smell them and was searching for them with her roving eyes.

Elméra held her breath without even realizing she was doing so. Her mouth was open and she just gaped as she took in the mass and strength of the she-warg. For it was obvious it was a female by its less long hair and shinier pelt. Her nose wrinkled as she seemed to see right through Elméra and the maiden shivered. Roth put his arm about her and pulled her close as they crouched behind the barrels.

Caranfëa noticed and wrinkled his own nose. It was unfit that any immortal should be with a mortal thus. Did Rothinzil not know the cost of such a thing? He wasn't about to ask. The red-haired Elf simply sniffed and then watched with dark-green eyes as Calmir came swaggering behind the starving female warg.

"We have lingered here too long," said the shorter Elf to Rothinzil. "We shan't get away if we don't leave, now!" He drew a quick breath and said, "there is a small passageway to the left. We would have to cross the room, but once we get in it, I think we can plan something there."

Roth nodded and looked at him and then glanced over at Glorfindel, who was watching the situation with a stony and grim expression carved into his features. The Gondolin Elf just returned the glance with his eyes, not shifting his head. "I think it's smells us."

Elméra blanched and said, "we can't fight it without getting captured. We are going to have to slip past it." As she shifted her skirts made a noise and the creature snarled at their direction. She held stock-still and her breath was taken away in rigid fear.

Calmir was standing talking with some men and bragging, most likely, about Valar knew what.

Now was their chance.

>>>>>>>>

Legolas stumbled up and nearly fell over again. His head was spinning and he had very little time to react before he was jerked aside by King and pressed against the wall. He had never seen such wrath in the man's eyes before and Legolas began to feel like he was melting inside.

"Elf, I want you to go and stand outside the cell," growled King in a thick voice. "Do exactly as you are told, or it is your friend who will suffer the consequences. Am I clear?" Legolas looked at Aragorn out of the corner of his widened eyes and he shook his head as the ranger told him to not give in.

"As you say," answered the blonde Elf contemptuously. He observed as King stood back and gestured to the door with a swing of his arm. Legolas carefully slinked past the man and looked to see Aragorn watching abomination, as King followed behind and shut the door.

Legolas went and stood just a few feet out and King whispered to Aragorn in a threatening voice, "if things go poorly with him, I am going to come back and you won't be around to see his mangled body return."

He slammed the metal door shut and going over to Legolas shoved him forward. The Elf walked nimbly but slowly out to where he was certain he was going to die.

Erestor's sharp Elven hearing caught all that was said and he watched with calculating eyes, as Legolas was lead out. Now he knew what had happened to all those Elves who had mysteriously disappeared and it made him sick. He knew it wasn't his fault. However, he could not help but feel some guilt.

His wound was throbbing, though the bleeding had stopped and he grimaced as he lay back against the cold wall. His fair face was contorted in emotional pain and physical agony. The dark-haired adviser tried not to look at his abdomen, for it was covered in his blood and the sight was enough to make him sick.

He closed his eyes as he heard the door shut and then he called out, "Estel?"

Aragorn heard the soft and tormented voice of the Elf-lord and called back, "Erestor, are you doing well? How badly are you wounded?" he asked hurriedly.

The counselor said promptly in return, "yes. I am fine. The wound hurts but it isn't deep."

Aragorn smiled as he realized the counselor may claim to be different, but was every bit like Glorfindel. "I should still like to see it to make sure."

"Thank the Valar for the prison bars," teased Erestor grimly. It was meant to be a jest, but he was in no mood for it and it came out all wrong.

Aragorn knew it and muttered, "you have been around Glorfindel way too much."

The response was to be expected. "No, that troublesome rogue follows me, not the other way around. Remember that," he added at the end to make sure his point came across.

>>>>>>>>

The shriek emitted by Calmir when he discovered Caranfëa was no longer waiting to be his next victim would have put a Nazgul to shame. Elméra, Rothinzil, Caranfëa and Glorfindel were all in the small, musty, dank, dark, ominous passageway as they listened to the chaos the red-haired Elf's disappearance was making.

Caranfëa had a smug expression on his face and he smiled a thin smile as he said, "if it weren't for the difficult situation are in, I might be able to enjoy this." Rothinzil chuckled, knowing full well what the little Elf meant and Elméra just grinned.

To be honest, she was enjoying this as well.

Glorfindel was the only one who remained serious. He frowned as a voice out in the other room screeched, "now we have two Elves roaming free!"

Turning to his companions from he had his pointy ear against the door, the Elf said quickly and indisputably, "they will be looking for us, we cannot linger." His eyes were narrowed into bright blue slits and he said, "lets look at things, shall we? We are trapped in here, Celebalda and his men are captured or killed, Legolas is going to be forced to fight, Erestor and Aragorn are most likely captured as well."

"What a cheerful evaluation you present us with!" snapped Rothinzil with a glare. Caranfëa said nothing.

"Well it's the truth, take it or leave it, Rothinzil!" growled the Gondolin Elf back with anger lacing his voice. He normally would have been much more reserved, but he was worried for Erestor's life.

"I will take it," answered the dark-haired Elf slowly. "But what do we do about it?" he asked with a raised brow in question.

"We obviously cannot venture outside of this room until that fight is over. Otherwise that would be about as dangerous as going to a dragon and trying to convey the finer points of eating Elf!" asserted Glorfindel pessimistically. His cynical mood was far from appreciated. However, no one was about to dare argue with him. "How long do these fights usually last, I wonder?" asked the golden-haired Elf to half to himself.

Caranfëa answered bitterly, "until one dies or is injured and weary to the point of surrender." His eyes flashed as he remembered the harsh treatment he had often received. His hands clenched and unclenched simultaneously at his sides as he struggled to get a grip on his last shreds of patience and sanity.

Glorfindel's glare deepened much to everyone's surprise, because it had seemed to be an impossible feat. "Now who is being morbid?" he asked in an irritated way that normally would have struck fear into the heart of anyone considering contradicting him. Right now however…

Caranfëa's state of mood was anyone's guess (most would say 'insane')and he said, "I was being honest and if you wouldn't have asked, I would have not of told you."

A roar suddenly split through the stuffy air of the room through the thick wooden door and they knew that the fight was about to start. Caranfëa shivered as he thought of the numerous times beyond count he had found himself fighting for his life and honor in the gapping hole.

Legolas winced as the cloak Aragorn had given him was torn from him and he was shoved over the edge of The Pit, landing softly and gracefully into the straw below. He glared up at King as he felt the cold rush through his awareness and his eyes conveyed nothing but animosity. King looked all too smug and said, "and losing will not only cost you your life, but your ranger friend's as well and trust me when I say he will not go easily."

Legolas snapped, "that is so low."

King shrugged. "You had better concentrate, _Elf_. Unless of course you really don't care about those who came to rescue you."

Legolas narrowed his eyes further and one wold have been surprised that he could still see out of them at all. His eyebrows furrowed and he growled, "I would die for them as some of them have for me. You will pay for what you have done, one way or another."

Legolas heard a low and threatening growl before he bothered to turn his attention to the warg that was crouched at the opposite end of The Pit, hackles raised and yellow fangs bared in a way that seemed more from routine than anything else. The beast knew her business, obviously by heart.

Legolas realized he was weapon less and he felt fear grip him in a cold hard fist. Crouching down low himself, the blonde being waited for the warg to make her first move. She seemed to grin a toothy and taunting grin of enjoyment. Her tongue licked her lips and she flexed her claws with bright black eyes flickering.

Then, she leaped and Legolas felt his eyes grow considerably wider as he saw the flurry of hair and sharp teeth plus claws hurl itself at him. Then, at the last second, he ran beneath her bulk and appeared on the other side of her. The crowd of men roared and whistled, hoping to see a real show.

Legolas saw Calmir smirking at him and rocking back on his heels. The Elf glared back and then turned his attention fully upon survival.

The warg snarled in anger and stalked up to Legolas. The Elf jumped upon her back and was about to make a leap off when he bucked-there was no other word for the strange movement- and sent him to slam back and head first in the hard dirt wall.

Dazed, he had no time to recover. His reflexes and health were too weary and ill or else he might have beaten her in a weaponless battle. Now, however, he was too weak from hunger, torment and frigid temperatures.

Her jaws closed in on his leg, not biting down hard enough to crunch it, but enough to get a grip and pierce the skin, before she flipped him up into the air like a cat might a mouse, then dropped him to the ground, placing a large, hairy forepaw on his chest and pressing down.

Legolas could feel his ribs compromising and his lungs beginning to empty of air without his consent. Fear gripped him and remembering the cost of losing, he struggled madly. But it was no use.

Using her other paw, she smacked him full across the face, leaving scratches that were not too deep, but more like scrapes, raw and painful. He cried out in agony as her nails hit his already sore and lacerated jaw that the relentless chain had cut into.

She seemed to feed off his pain and her grin broadened and as he saw his face contort in fear s rumbling began in her chest as she purred with pleasure. Legolas struggled still, pressing his booted feet against her horrible mass to no apparent avail. Still kicking, the Elf hissed in his native tongue, "_get off me you foul creature! If you value your hide, you will let me go!" _

She obviously was no intimidated and she moved her paw up closer to his throat so her claws were on his jugular vein, where she meant to strike. Legolas kicked her hard again and she gave a cry as one of his feet found a soft spot to strike. Leaping back in the astonishment that his little half-starved Elf could hurt her thus, the she-warg snarled and her hair raised all around so that she appeared to be many times as big as she was.

Legolas had just enough wits left to scramble out of the way, so rolling onto his stomach, he started to get up when she grabbed him by his leg and began to pull him backwards in a sliding motion. Legolas was not going to let her eat him, not yet anyway and he kicked with his free foot at her nose.

She shrieked and bit down harder on his leg before letting go and giving him a chance to leap up and face her. He knew he should have taken that opportunity to run but his more insane part of mind didn't permit it so when her paw struck out and caught him on his right side of his ribs, he was far from surprised.

He was slammed into the wall and slammed his head against it hard. Stars danced before his eyes and he swayed, falling to the ground and with relief he felt himself sliding into nothingness.

He did not here the crowds roar and then the cries die down as they realized the fight was over. Legolas had lost and Aragorn was in big trouble.

**TBC……OH-HO! Evil Cliffie! Well it's about time! Er...bad us, bad! **

**Please review. Those are so much fun to read. You didn't seem to take Thalionril's cold blooded death half as bad as we expected. Though we never knew that he actually had some...fans. **

**Here are some review responses. Thank you so much for these delightful reviews! **

**Deana: **Yes, poorElf and there are still chapters to go! Thanks for the review.

**elitenschwein:** Thank you for the interesting review! You thought last chapter was evil. -Authors glance over recent chapter- well, now. Wonder what you think of this particular one. Shame on us? What? Well now! We have news for you! He asked us to let him go! It isn't our fault he got in the way and died. And yes, Legolas does wish we had never started writing fan fiction, but that is just too bad now isn't it? LOL Yes, well, just hold your horses. Aragorn angst to come. Aghh! A what was that? Nagul-horse? Hmmmm sounds...slightly threatening... Thank for the warning...we think...

**Shadowfox8:** You reviewed once or twice on did you not? Hopefully or we are imagining things. We try to not to make people wait too long but it is really quite hopeless. Thanks for the review.

**lil Cwick: **Thank you for that encouraging review.

**Astievia:** Uh-oh! -both cringe- another Thalionril fan! Well, we got in the way. Umm...he is in a better place, remember that when you consider all the evil plans that are running through your mind. Hopefully not? Scary how we are all three thinking alojng the same cruel lines... Thanks for the frightening review. LOL

**Marie Delcore:** You fear for our little redhead's safety? Why? LOL Hehehhehehe. your obsession? We have it for years, just chose to hide it until the opportune moment. LOL Erestor greatly appreciates your sympathy. LOL Thanks for the review mellon nin!

**Galadryal:** Virus ridden? Ouch! Hope that you got that all cleared up. That has to suck! Hehehehe, we totally sympathize...really. Thanks for the 'flying review'. LOL

**Snow Glory:** Oh yes, we can tell he is enjoying this little escapade so much. LOL Really, the little Wood-Elf looks so pleased with his circumstances right now. Yes, well all three of them are idiots and insane andin dire need of a pro. therapist to set right. LOL But they will never get that of course. Not as long as they are in our fics. When Celebalda and that curious little Elf meet it will be very strange, that's for sure. Thanks for the review.


	23. What Must Be

_**CHPATER TWENTY-THREE**_

_What Must Be _

_"If you are going through hell, keep going." - Sir Winston Churchill (1874-1965) _

The cries of the men and the fight died down and in the small passageway the four companions listened to insure that all had left. From what they had heard, it had been a horrible loss, for Legolas. Time was now critically short.

Waiting a good fifteen minutes before they opened the door, Glorfindel was the first to peek out through the diminutive crack. His blue eyes flickered as he took in the scene before him. Legolas was being dragged out by his arms and pulled away. Blood ran from his mouth and nose. His face was pale and his eyes were rolled back into his head.

Glorfindel was under the impression he was dead. The thought struck him like a troll's hammer might have and he winced noticeably. Rothinzil said quietly, "let me have a peek."

"You don't want to, Roth," said Glorfindel, "trust me on this." He used all his strength to not shudder or let tears seep out from under closing eyes. He sighed and whispered, "I mean it, Roth."

Rothinzil understood, but he still wanted to see what evil had befallen his prince and dearest friend. "Oh, Legolas," he said as he looked over Glorfindel's head from where the Gondolin Elf was crouched near the ground. He felt tears springing up to his eyes and he pulled away from Glorfindel and collapsed to his knees in hopeless despair.

He said nothing but looked into the darkness with tearful eyes that quickly were shedding their burdens in silver drops. His dark-hair fell over his face and hid the pain. Elméra quickly stepped over to him and placed her hand on his shoulder and then she crouched by him and said, "we will get him back. Do not worry."

Rothinzil nodded numbly. Glorfindel said, "we need a plan."

Caranfëa rolled his eyes and said gruffly, "glad you have figured that out by now." His sarcastic tone garnered him a sharp and annoyed look from Glorfindel and Elméra.

"You know for just being saved from a cruel death you certainly have a rather cynical point of view on everything," concluded the Gondolin Balrog-Slayer.

"Well what are we going to do?" asked Elméra. "I mean it would seem that Caranfëa and myself could go and find Celebalda since we know this place better than you and Roth and Glorfindel would most likely want to be the one to get Erestor and this…Aragorn?-free. I know Roth would like to be the one to save Legolas."

Caranfëa felt a jolt at the name 'Celebalda'. His father was here. Valar! He had not seen him in years! And his sister, he had nearly forgotten about them through his long separation away from friends and family. All he had remembered for so long was pain and being lonesome.

His thoughts were drawn away from his eye-opening monologue as Glorfindel spoke again to disclose his thoughts.

"That actually would be feasible," said Glorfindel, "if the proper precautions are taken."

Rothinzil sighed and said, "there is no way to take precautions, Lord Glorfindel. That chance was lost ere we came here. We are going to have to trust to faith and friendship."

"That is insane….I like it," said Glorfindel with a demented obscuration of a smile. He thereupon frowned. "But once we put this into action, there is no going back. We will be separated and there will be no chance to communicate until the end and we are standing outside the doors."

"But the doors have the grate slammed across them now," said Rothinzil. "I saw it when I found you."

"Certainly there is a back door," answered Glorfindel calmly.

Caranfëa was silent and then he said, "There might be, but we will never find it in time. And time is more precious than you know," he added. "Orcs are threatening to break through the far wall, in the room where Prince Legolas is held along with Aragorn and Erestor."

"Oh, yes, they were both captured trying to free Legolas and myself," explained Caranfëa to the others, whose surprised faces spoke volumes. But then the red-haired Elf whispered extremely low and precariously, "King has a malice against Lord Erestor like the Eagles have against orcs. If he is as angry as I think he is about Legolas' loss then it will not be long before Erestor or even this human you speak of understand what it means to get onto his bad side…even more so than Legolas." The shorter Elf's voice was now in desperate and quick tones.

Glorfindel's face was grey and is eyes were wide, but he got himself under control and shook his head, "we can't let anything happen to Estel and Erestor or anything further happen to Legolas."

Rothinzil looked serious and grave, nearly like an Elf-lord of the deep past and his darkened hazel eyes connected with Glorfindel's blue ones in a knowing look. This was going to be an impossible mission to perform.

"We have everything to lose and very little time to do so, so I suggest we get moving," advised Glorfindel sharply. "The more we put it off the more time we give for our friends to suffer and postpone the inevitable."

"You sound very much like Lord Erestor," commented Rothinzil dryly with a wry look at the golden-haired being. Glorfindel didn't argue and he hardly seemed to notice the tease.

Elméra tensed and looked at Rothinzil with heart-heavy eyes. She didn't want to leave him, not knowing if she would ever see him again. Her eyes seemed to glisten in the dark like a set of stars, like the star _Helluin_, a favorite star of Rothinzil's. She smiled when she saw him looking at her and he smiled back before turning slightly red.

Glorfindel and Caranfëa sensed Roth's and Elméra's want to be alone for a moment. Silently stepping out through the door, now that the men were gone, they left the pair of lovers to themselves.

Rothinzil stepped close to her and she softly whispered, "I don't want to leave you."

"All will be well, trust me, we will be fine in the end and so will everyone else," he reassured her gently. "Your eyes are like to blue star _Helluin_, and so I shall call you."

She looked uncertain and then she smiled brightly, "very well, Rothinzil. I would be honored to carry the name of an Elven star."

"_Cormamin niuve tenna' ta elea lle au'. _My heart shall weep until it sees thee again." Rothinzil murmured sweetly to her. She shivered before speaking again.

"I think that the patience of the Lord Glorfindel and the warrior Caranfëa are running thin and so is time." Her eyes dimmed and she said seriously, "we had better leave." Roth turned completely grave and then he pressed his lips over hers gently in a delicate kiss of farewell.

"Legolas! Legolas! Legolas! Legolas! Legolas! LEGOLAS!" A voice drummed through the prince's diluted attentiveness and he mumbled,

"no, go away…" His voice sounded soft and the speech was slurred.

"Legolas! Wake up!" came the voice again. It was annoying, vexatious, firm…it sounded like Erestor, noted the fair-haired Elf irritably.

Opening his eyes he saw Erestor peering at him with anxious grey eyes and a frowning expression. The counselor smiled with relief and he said, "it about time, I thought you never were going to wake up. I thought they…" he let his voice squeeze off and Legolas muttered,

"I'm never better." He tried to sit up and suddenly found out that was a horrible mistake as his head swam and he collapsed back against the cold, bare stone of…Erestor's cell? What in the name of Eru was he doing in here?

The dark-haired adviser scowled and said, "you took quite a beating, I'm surprised you are still around." He looked like he was hurting himself and he stared at the prince curiously for a moment. "Don't worry, this isn't over yet."

"I wish it was," mumbled the yellow-haired Elf.

He suddenly went white and looked around in alarm. "Where in Eru is Estel?" he asked loudly and his voice carried throughout the room.

The young ranger was no where in sight. Legolas felt alarm and horror growing inside. He had lost the fight, so what had King done to his best friend? If Aragorn was in pain or dead it was all his fault and he would never forgive himself. That was a promise.

Erestor said, "he was taken away not too long ago." Legolas struggled to get up and the counselor placed his hands on the younger Elf's shoulders, forcing him to stay down. "Legolas, there is nothing you can do and you can't afford to get hurt any more than you are."

The dark-haired Elf wrinkled his brow suddenly and he went stiff. Legolas watched as the counselor's face went white then a grey. "Orcs!" he hissed. "I can hear their voices distinctly."

Legolas raised his head, "they are breaking in."

He suddenly saw Erestor's wound, crimson and still bleeding. He noticed that the adviser's breath was far from serene as it usually was and that in fact it was erratic and sounded painful. "Erestor, you have taken grievous hurt…"

"And you haven't?" he interrupted, raising a brow in question. "Don't start that with me, Prince Legolas Greenleaf Thranduillion!" he warned in a growl.

A loud bang startled both of the Elves and Legolas knew without looking that King was back. He winced and tried to harden his eyes again, but he felt so tired and weak, it was near impossible.

The irate man came in and he looked at Legolas' form lying on the ground. Then, seeing Erestor crouching near the blonde prince, he said, "You're next _counselor_!" His voice sounded threatening and totally sinister. The man was livid.

Erestor felt his temper bristling and he said, "you have done enough. Can't you just leave him alone?"

"You are in way over your head, Elf. You can't talk your way out of this one and there is no golden-haired Elf to save you here," informed King with a sneer. He watched Erestor's face contort in fervent pain and he smiled. "He is dead."

The man then reached down and grabbed Legolas by his hair, pulling the Elf-prince up to his knees and from there up to his feet. "My patience for you is gone, little prince." He set his hand on his throat and pressed in, slamming the weak Elf against the wall. "You lose one more sparring match and cost me money again I promise you this; your life will be a living Hell. Remember Elf, you live forever and that's a long time for me to prove to you how cruel I can be."

"You can be crueler than this? You had me fooled," croaked the prince through his constricted windpipe.

King cut off Legolas' air the rest of the way and then snarled, "you are not worth my time." He watched the blue eyes glaze over and the face turn a bright red, then a grey, and then a pale and darkening blue. He smiled as Legolas' eyes closed, lips quivered and body writhed before going completely still.

Erestor wanted to scream, but he knew it would do no good and would only serve King better. So he kept his mouth shut tightly and his lips were a thin white line. But his eyes spoke volumes and he couldn't hide it, no matter what he tried.

He could have helped Legolas, but he was too weak. His wound still was leaking blood and body fluid. All his strength was utterly taken from him.

He watched Legolas crumple to the ground and his blonde hair slid to cover his pale face. His chest still rose and fell slightly; the prince was only passed out from the lack of oxygen.

King glared at Erestor and he smiled, "now for you, _my friend_." He produced a small phial from his pocket. It was crystal and a red liquid swished inside as he shook it. A grin spread across the man's face and he said, "do you even know what this ingenious potion is?"

Erestor narrowed his eyes defiantly and refused to speak as King stalked towards him with an insane and devious look reflecting in his dark set eyes.

"I didn't think so, _scholar," _he spat scornfully. "This," he held it up and shook it. "Is a poison without even a true name. I made it myself, with you in mind." He smiled in a secondary way and began to rattle off effects. "Horrible pain spasms, and memory loss," he finished with a laugh.

Erestor felt his stomach churn and he grimaced inwardly. He forced a scowl. "I hope you didn't expect me to just willingly drink it?" he said with a sigh. "I would hate to disappoint you." He couldn't help himself, but to infuriate his captor.

"Hardly," retorted the man as he popped the top. "And did I mention the affect it takes on wounds? They can't heal." Taking his hand he backslapped the dark-haired Elf and then grabbing some of the chains that were still in the room, he fastened the counselor's hand to together tightly, so the metal bit into the skin.

Erestor refused to cry out and forced himself to be contented to suck the blood running from his lip. King ripped the shreds of bloodied tunic away from the knife wound and he held the opened bottle just above it, so the lip nearly brushed the tender skin. Then he gave it a tap with is forefinger and the liquid fire dripped onto the laceration.

Erestor hissed and stiffened as he felt it lance through his abdomen and he closed his eyes. King smiled and he felt joy run through is heart as he saw the intercessor's pain. Erestor shivered, unable to stop himself.

King then grabbed Erestor's hair and tilted his head up so his chin was facing the dirt ceiling. Erestor struggled but it was pointless. He felt cold fear that blinded him clutch him tightly, so it seemed to suffocate him.

His breathing accelerated and he closed his eyes, afraid that his profound fright would show. But it was too late, King already knew and he laughed. "Take your medicine Elf."

Erestor felt the glass lip of the phial press into his mouth and he shut his teeth tightly together. A kick to his wound and his mouth opened in an agony infused gasp. The liquid ran swiftly down his throat like hot oil might down wax paper. He tried to cough it up as he was released, but he could not.

It had no effect on his stomach in the beginning, making it impossible for him to throw it up. Keeping his eyes to the ground, Erestor refused to meet the triumphant gaze of his enemy. He had felt so defiant only moments ago and now he felt nothing except a new feeling of his life being ripped cruelly away.

King glared and said, "and my first phase of revenge is finished and it is sweet." His eyes ran over the now shivering form of the counselor.

Looking at Legolas, the man smirked. "And when you wake up I promise you your life will be a living Hell." He then slammed the prison door and left both the Elves.

Glorfindel and Rothinzil watched as a man walked from the place where Caranfëa had said Aragorn, Erestor and Legolas were being held.

King stopped short when he saw the two Elves facing him and his surprise was more than evident. He worked to keep his voice flat. "Glorfindel? You are alive?" He frowned and said, "I am sorry to hear that."

"Not as sorry as you are going to be," hissed the golden-haired Elf as he and Rothinzil drew their weapons. "I don't wish to kill you. I never have. But you have pushed me too far." Glancing at Roth with a curt nod, he whispered to the dark-haired warrior, "you go and get prince Legolas and Erestor. I will finish with this scum."

King drew his own sword, but Glorfindel advancing had stricken fear into his heart. He had nothing but contempt for this Elf so many tales had told of. He hated and wished to slay the golden-haired nuisance, but he was not stupid. Unless Glorfindel was ambushed, a mortal man had no chance against him in battle, unless Glorfindel was seriously wounded or distracted.

Roth looked to the other Elf and smiled, "of course."

He side stepped King and paid no heed when the man cried after him, "Legolas is no longer himself. He is too weak to survive much longer!"

Glorfindel smiled coldly and said, "so tell me, after killing me and brutally murdering my friends and companions, what then was it you were going to do?" He smirked, "how did you expect to escape the wrath and revenge of the Elves, _Beleg_?"

"I expected that dead Elves tell no tales and brain washed and captive ones don't either." His response was as Glorfindel might have expected.

Before making his fist move towards the cornered human Glorfindel declared. "Erestor, Legolas and Estel are coming home, along with Celebalda and his remaining Elves." He placed his sword against King's and clanged it. "At least give me a fight."

"I will give you more than a fight. Even if you rescue Erestor, he will never be himself again. His memory will be gone in a few hours and right now he is in a delirious stupor." King struck out at Glorfindel to kill, but the Gondolin Elf easily parried the blow and all but knocked King's sword out of his hand.

"And your precious ranger, he is beyond being rescued," sneered the man as he back stepped to prevent his head from being cut off by Glorfindel's quick blade.

Glorfindel kept his face calm or angered, blocking out the fear that gripped his heart. What ever had this horribly cruel man done to his lord's son? "What evil have you committed other than those against my race?" he inquired of the Dark Dúnadan.

He smiled a knowing smile as his sword nearly cleaved Glorfindel's skull but for the quick reflexes of the opponent. "He is dangling over a pit of venomous snakes. A single bite is fatal, unless you are made of the antidote." He had laughter in his eyes. "And they jump pretty high."

Glorfindel asked, "you mean like you?" And he swiped his blade at the man's legs. King leaped up into the air and backward to avoid a severe wound. Glorfindel sneered.

The ex-ranger snapped. "You are dead, Gondolin dwelling coward!" Glorfindel's face darkened and King sealed his certain death as he spat. "Craven Elves, living in a shadowed kingdom and killing those who came near."

Glorfindel came at him with a deadly fire in his eyes. He had not killed and been killed by a Balrog to be called craven. He brought his sword down hard and King's own did not have the strength to block the blow and it shattered at the hilt.

Glorfindel watched as surprise, fear and anger danced across the human's face in about three seconds and then he looked up at Glorfindel with wide eyes as the golden-haired Elf knocked him to the ground. Placing his boot on top of the man's chest and his sword's point on the throat, Glorfindel pressed the blade in.

He felt a sharp pain as the broken sword near the hilt was stabbed into his leg, barely making it through his boot. But Glorfindel's hard and angered expression did not change as he inwardly winced. "I want you to look me in the eye and tell me that you think your revenge so sweet _now_."

King said nothing and Glorfindel gave a cold and sneering smile. "I thought as much." With all the force he had, he stabbed and King gave him a frightened and angered look before bleeding out and dying before him and only then Glorfindel stepped back.

His breath was level, surprisingly, as he began to run towards Rothinzil's aid.

When he came in, he saw that the dark-haired warrior had already broken the lock on the door with his sword. He was kneeling by Legolas. Tears were in his eyes and he whispered, "my prince and friend, wake. Please."

He brushed his fingers gently along Legolas' cheek and the prince stirred. His glazed blue eyes opening at his friend's gentle touch, the first real kindness she had felt unlooked for in this misery in days. They locked on Roth's and he murmured, "this is a dream. I have been drugged." He shivered and Rothinzil smiled.

"No. It is real. You are going to be saved." He wined as he saw all the blood on Legolas' face and the pain in the tired eyes. The way Legolas' speech was slurred and the way he did not shut his mouth told the warrior of the wounds that were unseen. He saw the blood lining the corners of the lips and he said, "Legolas I am so sorry."

The blonde Elf grasped Rothinzil's hand tightly and said, "I am glad you are hear." Then realizing his surroundings he asked hurriedly, "but where is King? Where are the men?"

Roth said, "shhhhhh….Glorfindel has taken care of King. He will never trouble you again." Roth placed a hand around Legolas' middle and helped the Elf to sit up. He felt hardly anything between the ribs and his hand. It made him shudder. And when he looked at Legolas more closely, he saw that his waist was extremely thin and the ribs were evident. He looked more of the bones than he did Elf in flesh and blood.

Legolas sighed and leaned against Roth's warm cloak and tunic, burying his face in his friend's garments. "Thank you, my dear Rothinzil," he murmured into the tunic. "I was so afraid."

Roth nodded and held Legolas like a mother might comfort a frightened child after a nightmare. "I know." Hearing Legolas admit he had been frightened chilled Rothinzil, who had always seen Legolas as being unshakable, even though he knew otherwise.

Taking his cloak off, he carefully covered Legolas' frame with it. Legolas whispered, "thank you, my friend."

Roth smiled and asked with a laugh in his voice, "what are friends for?"

The words of Rothinzil echoed throughout Legolas' mind and he gasped, jerking free of Rothinzil's comforting embrace before crying out, "where is Estel?" He had not forgotten King's mortal threat.

Glorfindel stepped in and answered, "in a pit of deadly snakes, somewhere." The golden-haired Elf collapsed by Erestor's side and looked into the unseeing eyes of the counselor.

"You idiot," he mumbled in pain at the strange feeling of loss that he felt as he saw Erestor didn't even glare much less smart back. Glorfindel didn't understand the hot tears he felt clouding his blue eyes and he checked Erestor's pulse. "You are the most annoying, stupid, insane, crafty, obnoxious, pig-headed, best friend I ever had," finished Glorfindel as he realized that Erestor indeed still lived. The pulse was weak, but unmistakably there.

The counselor shivered and curled into himself. Glorfindel carefully, so as not to cause Erestor more pain, gathered him up in his arms. Leaving his sword lying on the ground. Looking into Erestor's face, he saw how twisted it was in agony. The poison was torturing him.

Glorfindel noticed the large laceration across Erestor's middle and he saw the crimson blood on his fingers and staining his tunic. "Eru Erestor!" He knew that the wound was going to have to wait until later, but it hurt him to see Erestor thus. He was a counselor. This wasn't supposed to happen to him. And it was all Glorfindel's fault. He should have protected him better.

Roth and Legolas looked at the two friends with sorrowful faces. They did not know what to say and so they looked away.

Suddenly Erestor began to chant deliriously, obviously not aware of himself:

_An attack unlooked for_

_At Thangorodrim_

_High, inescapable precipice of rock._

_Shadow and Flame,_

_Rock and darkness. _

_Long Glorfindel the Valiant _

_And the Balrog dueled. _

_While Aredhel watched_

_And others cringed._

_But then we lost him,_

_Elf dear to us,_

_Though his enemy fell. _

_Both dropped to ruin_

_In the abyss below. _

_But the Eagles! The Eagles!_

_They came and bore up the body _

_Of our valiant warrior. _

_A mound of stones they made. _

_And so it remained, _

_Until the world was changed. _

Legolas and Rothinzil's faces were white, but none compared to Glorfindel's. He felt suddenly very ill and he swayed as he held Erestor. All the Elves of Rivendell had been extremely careful about never singing songs that spoke of Gondolin and its fall, much less Glorfindel's death.

Even though Glorfindel knew that Erestor had not meant to do it, the memories still stung his heart like a thousand darts smiting it at once. Erestor suddenly gave cry of intense pain and Glorfindel pulled him close, shaking him gingerly to try and bring him back, afraid of causing more hurt. "Erestor, stop it! Please, you are frightening me and it isn't very becoming of an Elf-lord!"

There was no response and the counselor's face went a shade paler. Then the poisoned Elf began to shiver violently. He suddenly seemed to regain his sight and drifted back into reality. Looking up into Glorfindel's anxious face, he asked, "how did you find me? He said you were dead."

Glorfindel smiled and said, "a slight exaggeration on his part, though if I said it about him, it might be an understatement." Erestor remained limp and then he closed his eyes, sighing contentedly.

"I am glad you came to save me," there was an attempt at joyfulness in his voice. "I know your face, but I can't remember your name."

Glorfindel felt tears biting the corners of his eyes and he let them escape. One fell onto Erestor's face with a gentle and minute splash and the counselor opened his eyes. "You never know what you have until it's gone." Glorfindel nodded.

"But I am going to save you."

"You don't always have to be the hero," answered Erestor with a faint smile. "I am in horrible pain and my mind is fading. You can leave me behind and escape yourself. If you slew Beleg as you say, they will be after you and carrying me will slow you." Erestor's face then turned and sickly green and his eyes rolled back as he passed out from the intoxication of the drug. Glorfindel knew what Erestor meant and the words burned him as effectively as a torch might have.

The Gondolin Elf whispered "friends don't desert their friends…ever."

Legolas stumbled up and said, "truer words were never spoken." He had a defiant look coming back into his tired eyes. "I am going to find Estel. I refuse to leave without him."

Rothinzil said, "Legolas…"

"Do not try and stop me or I will be forced to take drastic measures," warned the Wood Elf angrily.

Rothinzil said (completely changing what he was going to say), "I wouldn't dream of it."

Legolas asked quietly. "You have done a lot for me Rothinzil, but I have one more favor to ask of you. Please come with me and help me. Will you be there to help me when I fall? I cannot do this alone." Of course what Legolas was asking was far more than one favor. But Roth was not going to say no, it as impossible.

Rothinzil smiled faintly and he said with his whole heart, "of course."

Glorfindel knew that there was going to be no arguing. It was impossible. He shifted Erestor in his arms and carefully supported his fading friend's head. "Be careful," he warned in a dark tone. "I should be the one going back. Legolas, you are far too weak," he addressed the Sindarin Prince.

Legolas stumbled forward a few more steps and then said, "I am not alone. Roth will be with me. We will find him and bring him out or we will die trying."

"That is exactly what worries me," stated Glorfindel firmly. "You could be killed. We have lost enough and knowing you the way I do you will be killed."

Roth snickered. "Hurt nearly beyond repair is more like it. Legolas always weasels his way out of death's grasp."

"Because he usually wants to be saved, Rothinzil," snapped Glorfindel testily. "And he had Aragorn to pull him through those times."

A bang was heard and Legolas hissed, "I had forgotten about the orcs! Valar! Oh blessed Eru! They are breaking through." He turned dimming blue eyes on the golden-haired Balrog-Slayer. "Be careful on your way back."

"You never give up, do you princeling?" asked Glorfindel with a glare. "Remind me never to go to Mirkwood again. Your father would take my head off if he knew what I am about to let you attempt." Glorfindel shivered to make a point.

"I will remember to tell him that he should set a high price on your golden-head," teased Legolas as he began to walk away with Rothinzil at his side.

"I have no desire to be like Tuor," retorted Glorfindel as he began to walk out still bearing Erestor's limp body.

Legolas didn't even respond to that remark, he was now bending all his thought to getting Aragorn back. Grabbing a torch from the wall scone, he watched for moment as the flames danced and nearly snuffed out.

As they walked out of the room he sighed. Where exactly did one go and look for a pit of venomous most likely hungry, snakes? In the darkest places that were least disturbed most likely. But where were those? He looked sidelong at Rothinzil with his brows knitted in question. Roth shrugged as if to ward off the frustrated prince.

"Great," growled Legolas as he struggled to remain standing and not fall flat on his face with pain and weariness. "We don't even know where to start!" he seethed more at himself than anyone or anything else.

Rothinzil said, "well the darkest places wouldn't be a bad place."

Caranfëa and Elméra walked through the last possible corridor that could lead to the prison where Celebalda and his remaining Elves were being held. Elméra noticed that the red-haired Elf had been quiet as the dead the entire search and he would often sigh as though something pained him.

Elméra stumbled on something and she gasped when she realized it was the frozen corpse of a slain Elf. His eyes were still large and frozen in fear, but everything else looked at peace. So she and Caranfëa found the body of Thalionril.

"Leave him," said Caranfëa thickly. "We shall pass this way again and then we shall get a decent burial for him."

They traveled further into the dim halls and Elméra felt herself choking up. Just as she thought she was about to despair, they came to the last room.

"This is the last room he could be in, you said so yourself," reminded Elméra as she gripped Roth's sword tightly. It was like her security right now, but it as no substitute for the hand of her lover.

Caranfëa just nodded numbly. "You had better stay out here."

"My brother is in there. I refuse to be left out of this engagement just because of who and what I am!" she growled. She didn't realize until Caranfëa beckoned her to lower her blade that she had it raised up and pointing at his throat.

"I may be many things, including mad, but I am not your enemy!" he scolded. "And if you want to get yourself killed, don't let me be a hindrance to you."

She stammered, "I am sorry. Just a bit on edge, I suppose."

"Just a little," assured the little Elf as he still stepped back.

A cry of anger more than pain or fear came from beyond the door and Caranfëa exchanged looks with the maiden next to him. "We found them," she said briskly, anger edging her voice. She could not believe her brother was this cruel. She just could not believe it. But she still was finding a hard time thinking about actually killing him, even though he as insane and gone horrible evil.

Caranfëa kicked against the weak, half-rotten wooden door . It gave with a loud creak and the sight before them was enough to make Elméra throw up all over Caranfëa, who was in shock.

His wrists from the ceiling chained Shaalth and his head was limp, hanging forward on his breast. It was not whip weals that marred his clammy chest and back, but brutal bruises, deep and many. A rib or two had to be cracked and at least one splintered.

Blood ran from his mouth in little rivulets. Before him Celebalda was chained…and unhurt.

He was bucking against his bonds, trying desperately to get to his companion who was being battered to death. "You coward!" he accused Calmir angrily. "If you want to make me scream, why don't you torture me instead?"

A smooth and scornful laugh drifted through the room and the words made Celebalda want to choke the insane man with his bare hands. "Because it is so much easier this way and I can hurt you twice. Eyes with tears are such beautiful things, aren't they?"

"You are sick," spat Celebalda with disdain.

Elméra ran over and stood by the hanging Elf, which was obviously dying and tried to push him up against the chains to take some of the weight off his wrists. He cried out softly and said in a murmur, "please no more. Please…"

It broke the maiden's heart and she whispered into his pointed ear, "no. We have come to help. You shan't be touched again. I promise." He turned a pair of blood shot and glazed eyes upon her, fear reflecting in them. "I promise," she reassured him gently and her arms trembled as she struggled to hold him against the shackles.

He coughed and more blood came from his mouth. Calmir saw her and Caranfëa and a smile played across his lips. "Sister, dearest, you lied to me. That Elf is nowhere to be found." He had his sword in hand and he was looking curiously at it, thinning about whether or not he should disembowel Shaalth.

Caranfëa went forward and stepped between Celebalda and Calmir's blade as the mad man started to come towards the captain, sword poised to attack. Celebalda's shocked face was not to be matched ever by any in Middle Earth and he stammered, "Caranfëa? How-"

"It is a long story There won't be time to tell you for a while," his broken wrist throbbed and he held it to his side. Weaponless, Caranfëa was unable to fight. But he was willing to take the blows for his father. He had just found him and wasn't going to loose him now.

"Caranfëa, I command you to stand aside!" demanded Celebalda. His eyes were narrowed and grim, set face, like in stone, made Caranfëa nearly obey him. But he had been made stubborn by the hardships and trials in the wilderness, followed by a cruel and enduring captivity.

"I am sorry father," he said wearily and faced Calmir. In a voice that cut like steal, he spoke slowly, "you will not harm either of them again."

But Calmir's focus was not on the father and son, but on Elméra and Shaalth. Shaalth looked at Calmir with nothing but fear in his eyes and he began to quake. His breathing accelerated as much as it could with his battered and broken chest. Elméra whispered, "By Illuvatar, I promise, he shall not harm you again. Do not fear."

Calmir just smiled and said, "sister, so tell me, did that Elf you hide…die, hm? How much pain was he in before he went?

The maiden watched as her brother fingered his blade and she said sardonically, "I regret to inform you that he lives." Then her voice went serious, "he is an Elf. He will live forever." She still had no idea that Roth _wasn't_ going to live forever now.

Calmir just shook his head. "The time for these Elves is up, anyway."

He stepped up by Shaalth and looked into the horrified Elf's frightened eyes. With a grin he drew back his fist to strike the defenseless being's chest that was already pushed to its limits.

Quick as a snake, Elméra stabbed with Rothinzil's sword and it delved into her brother's breast. He fell to the ground as it wrenched his heart and he gave a twisted scream before he drew his last breath.

The woman shrieked and as she pulled the weapon free she stammered, "I didn't mean to! I-I-I…." She had killed her own brother. It was his own fault, but she had done it and she could not erase that fact. Tears streamed down her face in silver runnels.

Shaalth just looked shocked and he breathed a deep and shaking breath of intense relief.

Caranfëa looked at Elméra and said, "you killed him."

"I am not a Kinslayer!" she screeched in emotional tumult.

Caranfëa shook his head and said, "you did what you had to and I am sure your friend there is grateful," he added with a look at Shaalth. The Elf was calming down and his wide eyes stared at the body of his tormenter.

Caranfëa suddenly spoke, "there is no time for wonders. We must hasten. Those orcs are over due to break through in one of the further rooms." Looking around the room, he saw the metal shod club that Calmir had been using to beat Shaalth within an inch of his life. "Ah, this will work for breaking your bonds. But first is first," he walked over to where Shaalth was and began to beat the rusty chain link that was attached to a steak in the ground, used as a pivot point to raise to unfortunate warrior off his feet.

"Hold him, Elméra," he commanded. She held the antagonized young Elf around his stomach in a tight holding, still trying not to hurt his ribs further. Caranfëa suddenly jumped back as the link snapped and Shaalth was cut free.

The chains had been wrapped around his wrist, mercilessly pinching the skin and so they slipped those off. With a sigh he breathed, "thank you." The maiden smiled and brushed the bloodied and sweat clumped hair from the fair face.

"You will be healed soon," she encouraged.

Caranfëa had Celebalda free and the captain rushed over to where his warrior was slumped backwards in Elméra's waning grip. Scooping the tortured Elf up he said, "you needn't walk. I will carry you."

Shaalth said, "sir, leave me. I will just slow you down."

"Shaalth, I order you to lie still and quiet," said Celebalda. He gazed at Caranfëa and Elméra, "where to now?"

"Out," said Caranfëa. "Glorfindel and Rothinzil are fetching Erestor, Estel and Legolas. We are to meet them out of here."

"How shall we if the grate is slammed shut?" he asked gruffly, not liking what he was hearing.

"We do not know," responded his son darkly. "We shall have to figure that out when we get there." He hid his broken wrist behind his back.

Then there was a bang and a series of hoarse and violent cries followed by more crashing. The orcs had broken through.

**TBC…….Hmmmm…probably not wise to say this, but we were going to continue this chapter and then we thought, ah-ha! Evil cliffie! Review please? Good thing you guys don't know where we live. LOL We don't want any mobs with pitch forks and other random pointy objects. LOL Try explaining that one to Mom and Dad. LOL**

**Review responses:) **

**Leel 74: **Well, not too much more ranger angst than whats has already been. Sorry, but our next fic will be more evenly distributed though biased this time towards our precious ranger. That may or may not be a comfort to you. Oh no! Not the Nazgul again! We had such a hard time creating evil cliffies last time. Sure, we can post on your Birthday, at least, as long as nothing comes up. Where do you live? Is it your parents' rule that you can't drive until seventeen? We are alould to get our permits at fifteen by law and then our actually liscinse at sixteen. Thanks for the review, good to have you back.

**Deana:** Yeah, Legolas has had it. Thanks for the nice review.

**Astievia:** You like our little Elfy? Aww...thats good to know. Well, rest assured, he will most certainly live. He has spent his whole life practically in the school of hard knocks so to speak, so he is well prepared. Gladyour horse back riding incident was not too horrible injury wise. Ouch. Yeah, I, Celeb, had a simular thing happen, only the bit broke and I didn't jump off. Thanks for the review.

**Marie Delcore:** Aragorny? Ummm...wonder what he thinks of that new name. -Looks down list of names for ranger- filthy human, ranger, Estel...Strider...ah...here we go, Aragorny. Another red-head fan! Yay! Thanks for the review.

**Sindauviel:** Interesting name, btw, we like it. Thanks for the review.

**Shadowfaxgal:** Hey that's fine. There is nothing to forgive! Thanks for the nice review.

**Snow Glory:** Win? Legolas? You know this is written by us so why expect that? Expect the unexpected as a rule. Yeah, everyone is having neardeath experiences at this point, we mostly everyone. Hehehehehehe -look over recent chapter- happy family...um...of course. We agree, he shouldn't hav become mortal, but there was that little dark-side that said _yes, yes, yes..._and we listened. Poor him. Yes, we imagine Tolkien did have that purpose in mind. Torturing helpless Mirkwood Elves...esp. a certain blonde one. LOL Thanks for the...unique review.


	24. Bright Eyes

_**Warning: This chapter is expected to be a tear jerker. **_

_**CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR**_

_Bright Eyes_

Legolas and Rothinzil felt the colors drain from their faces as they realized the orcs had broken through. There was nothing else that series of bangs could have meant. Not unless a troupe of oliphaunts had decided to start living underground in the dead of winter so far up north.

That was highly unlikely and all hope for getting out before the orcs managed to get in was lost.

Running down a far off passage that was hidden and looked freshly tunneled, the Elves hurried so as not to be captured. The torch sputtered and threatened to give out in the darkness and wind of their plight. The flames danced and so Legolas sent a quick prayer to Eru that it would stay alight. Otherwise he would not be able to find Aragorn in time.

Rothinzil began to slow down as his wound caught up with him and Legolas slowed in weariness. He felt like he had run for years and years on end with a merciless slave driver behind him.

The walls around them were definitely freshly hewn. As of yet not all the silver was taken out and the fire of the brand they held reflected onto the precious medal that ran in tendrils on the wall, like silver rivers and threads. There were also unrefined and gapping pits the further they went on, where the men had been removing the white gold.

But there was a crevice very far back, where it was black as pitch and the light of the torch had trouble piercing its darkness. Indeed, the light seemed to wither in the blackness. Legolas and Rothinzil stopped suddenly, their breath coming fast and winded as they listened to the sounds about them. Far behind they could hear the harsh cries of battle with men and orcs. They wondered what was going on and wondered if their friends were alive.

But besides the harsh voices of Mordor, they heard a bunch of low and venomous hisses, like a bunch of angry kettles bubbling over and spitting steam. Legolas looked at Roth and in the light of the torch they exchanged glances. "The snakes are around here!" Legolas whispered hoarsely. His blue eyes spoke alarm and he began to run further back.

Roth sprinted ahead and suddenly he stopped abruptly, his toes on the brink of a large pit writhing in twisted and rope like bodies. A stench rose and Legolas grabbed Rothinzil, pulling him backward to keep him from falling face first into the midst of the poisonous snakes.

Both of the Elves gasped. Legolas called out wildly, "Aragorn! Where are you, mellon nin?" He cried this over and over, waiting for an answer.

Rothinzil was the first to spot the unconscious or dead ranger. He was dangling from the ceiling in a corner, where the hungry snakes had a fair chance to sneak up and eat him alive. His head lolled over on his shoulder and Legolas winced as he saw the entire weight of the ranger was upon his wrists.

Looking down at Aragorn's legs, the Elven prince saw a few snakes twisted, sinking their long fangs into his boots. Giving a cry, Legolas ran over and grabbed the ranger's head in his long pale hands. Putting his forehead against Aragorn's he asked, "will you ever forgive me? Speak to me! Please!" Tears didn't even bother damning themselves before they spilled out of Legolas' eyes, but slid out without ceasing.

Rothinzil said, "Legolas, the orcs are coming!" His voice brought Legolas back into reality. "We must bear him and ourselves away from here and quickly at that!"

Legolas stiffened and asked with a weary sigh, "how can we do that? I can free him, yes, but we will never get past the orcs." He looked at the rope that bound Aragorn's wrists and then he told Rothinzil, "I will hold him, you cut the bounds, quickly."

Rothinzil looked down and realized he still had Legolas' twin knives. Smiling grimly, not because he was happy, but because he realized that everything was almost over, that he and his friends could be free.

Legolas wrapped his arms around Aragorn's middle tightly, so that his friend would not fall to the hungry, writhing creature's below. Rothinzil severed the ropes with the white knives that made short work of the bonds. Legolas pulled Aragorn up to 'safety' and then realized that two snakes that had their fangs embedded in his boot leather had come up with him as well.

Tumbling backwards in weakness and horror, Legolas fell and Aragorn fell on top of him. The snakes slithered around and hissed at the Elves with dark beaded eyes. Legolas was shocked into completely inactivity by the knowledge that his friend was most likely already poisoned and as he looked into Aragorn's pale and limp face, he wondered if the ranger's Fëa was already missing and he held a lifeless body.

Rothinzil slashed the head off one of the snakes swiftly with the cod blade of an identical knife. Wasting no time and certainly not willing to take any chances he was not forced to. He was going to see himself, Legolas and Aragorn through this. He wouldn't lose his dearest friends, he just would not. There were too many memories and yet he still wouldn't mind adding some more to the collection, happy memories, if that were possible.

The other snake he swiftly kicked out at, knocking it over the edge of the orifice to join its comrades that hissed and writhed below. His white face looked at Legolas' grey and aghast one. Legolas struggled to stand, bearing Aragorn in his arms, but he could literally feel his last reserve of strength draining and leaving him empty and lifeless.

"Legolas, let me carry him," offered Rothinzil helpfully. His own tired eyes connected with Legolas' filmed over blue ones. It looked to him as though his friend was dead on his feet literally speaking. "You have been through enough, my friend. You need to save your strength…"

"Rothinzil, you have to be weaker…."

"No, I am not. We do not have time to argue!" he told Legolas with a serious scowl. "It is my turn to look after you." He gave a weak and entirely hollow smile. "Let me bear him."

Legolas felt his legs about to give out under the extra weight that he lacked the initial strength to bear. Trembling, he nodded and said quietly, "Rothinzil, where would I be without you?" Roth held out his arms and Legolas placed the unconscious ranger in them with a bit of reluctance to put his friend's life in another's hands.

Immediately Legolas felt his burden lighten and he felt like he could stand and fight a little longer; maybe just long enough to get out and die free. He certainly could not possibly know if he could last that long, but he decided to believe that he could. Rothinzil whispered, "the orcs are coming. Take your knives."

The dark-haired Elf was still gripping the twin blades and Legolas looked down and seeing them cried, "I thought they were lost! Rothinzil, you are a marvel!" The other grinned.

"I wasn't exactly me who got them back, but that is a tale to be told at a better time," he added as he shifted the human's weight in his arms. His hazel eyes looked fearfully about as the harsh cries of the orcs, like iron grating on iron, filled the room and echoed down the passage way.

Legolas looked at Aragorn solemnly before he took his identical knives and held them. As he did, he felt his strength renewing. They were so familiar, a piece of home and something he could protect himself with. He did not like to admit that while he had been imprisoned, he had been helpless. Defiance had not served him and in the end had proved totally useless except for daring to stay alive.

Hope had been what had gotten him through more than anything, he decided as he and Rothinzil began to walk down the corridor quietly in the hopes of sneaking around the troupe of orcs.

If they were captured, it was sure to be their deaths. The brutality of the orcs and the evil weight that accompanied them would kill Legolas' spirit before his body and then he wouldn't have long to wait.

Then Roth stopped without warning and he went stock-still. "Legolas," he began in a voice that sounded weighted down in dread. "We left the torch back there."

The sounds of tramping feet and smashing stone followed by the clanging of their horrible laughter drifted into their ears. Legolas thought for a moment and whispered, "it would give us away anyway. As a matter of fact, it could act as a decoy. If they go to the light and we aren't there…"

"they will be even more angry and determined to taste our blood!" muttered Rothinzil, unwisely interrupting.

"Or confuse them and give us enough time to get out!" finished Legolas thwarting the argument that Rothinzil had nearly started.

Rothinzil took a careful step forward and then the orcs came into view. They were large _orcs_ not the smaller goblins that usually tunnels these mountains. Whatever they were doing, neither of the Elves wanted to know. But it was also obvious they came from Mordor and were here on some sort of business.

"Go back to Mordor," snarled Rothinzil, his voice sounding hard. Legolas nearly gapped, seeing a side of Rothinzil that hardly ever came out.

"Come little Elves and friend, to Mordor we will bring you," they taunted, seeing the weakness of the Firstborn and the unconscious ranger that the dark-haired one bore. Stepping forward and laughing -the sound of which was like grinding ice- the evil creatures raised their scimitars and prepared to capture the Elves. What delightful experience this was going to be. They could already taste the sweet taste of Elven blood in their mouths.

Roth just looked back at Legolas with a sorry-that-was-stupid-wasn't-it? Look and the prince glared, "that was very helpful. I am sure they are scared out of their minds!" He watched the orcs advancing on them with the most irritating smile's on their ugly faces.

Rothinzil stepped forward uncertainly and suddenly everything began to spin and his feet lurched out from underneath him. Fear and confusion crossed his paled face all at once merging to create quite an interesting expression from Legolas' perspective.

Legolas stumbled to the edge of the pit that had swallowed up his friend before Rothinzil could so much as cry out. Then, seeing no other alternative besides getting eaten by orcs, Legolas jumped in to follow his friend.

Aragorn fell from Rothinzil's grasp as the dark-haired Wood-Elf slipped into the darkness. He called out desperately, "Estel!" but there was no answer back. Suddenly he hit something and then felt himself sliding down a rough sort of passageway.

Whatever this was, at least it had gotten him away from those orcs, but Legolas was still up there, wasn't he? If that was so, then that was where he needed to be as well. "Legolas?" he cried out, his voice echoing of the walls.

"Rothinzil?" Legolas called back as he slid behind his friend. "I am here! Where are you?" He had a lost sensation. Elves are not used to darkness and lost their ways easily underground. He saw nothing but blackness and his heart was beating a mile a minute. What if he was going to be trapped in some dark pit forever? Where was this taking him to other than away form the orcs?

"Legolas?" Rothinzil inquired. "Thank the Valar!" He as about to tell Legolas he had lost Aragorn when he came to a sudden jolt and found himself pressed against the wall of a hidden cavern. Groping in the ark, he found Aragorn crumpled on the floor to his left.

A bang into his shoulder and back and Legolas slammed into him. The prince blinked stupidly as he shook dust out of his hair. "Where are we?" he asked grimly noticing with irritation that his voice echoed off the walls of the close grotto.

"How am I supposed to know?" retorted Rothinzil grumpily as he brushed his hair from his face. He gathered Aragorn back into his arms and muttered, "I suppose this is our tomb."

Legolas felt the color drain from his face as he realized how true Rothinzil's words were. "I suppose it is." His voice was soft. He wished he could say Rothinzil was wrong, but how he could look his friend in the eye and say it was beyond him.

"Helluin's long braids, her bright eyes…Legolas if I were ever to marry someone…anyone, Elf-maiden to mortal, it would be her." In the dark his face took on a dreamy look and he smiled. "But I suppose I shall never get to have a family now." His voice sounded regretful and Legolas felt ill.

"Roth you would give up your life for a mortal? Die? Leave me? How?" Asked the prince in shock as he realized all of what Rothinzil had just said. "How can you do that?" Legolas growled.

"I didn't want to tell you this Legolas, but I already have," said Rothinzil quietly and his throat choked as his voice squeezed off.

"You what? You are going to…die?" he stammered as he felt his heart seem to stop and everything…time itself…freeze.

"Yes, eventually. I will still be here for many more years," assured the dark-haired Elf as he realized how this had to sound to Legolas, his dearest friend since a long while.

"But I thought we were going to go to the Grey Havens together," whispered Legolas as he remembered Rothinzil becoming his best friend and finding the dear Elf, broken and spiritually dead…lost.

Now he was lost and Rothinzil was found.

It was odd how the tables had turned. But Legolas felt he would never find himself again and he lay down in the cave, and closed his eyes, letting his tears trickle down his face in unhampered rivulets. How could he ever feel whole again.

He remembered Rothinzil playing with him and them reaching majority together, mentally as much as physically, even though Legolas was five-hundred years older, he still was a child at heart until Roth 'grew-up'.There was so much they had shared and so much that they knew about each other -worst fears to humiliating secrets used as blackmail. They had promised to be best friends forever, but now that was impossible. Why did it seem to him that all his best friends, the people he really cared about, would leave him someday?

Estel would die someday, and he knew that day it would rain. It would rain cold and bleak somewhere in Middle Earth, perhaps the place Aragorn loved most, in the North it would rain. In the runes of Rivendell, it would rain and all the memories and familiar sights would be washed away. Perhaps, when he was older, he wouldn't remember his friends anymore. Perhaps all these memories he thought he would cherish forever would disappear with the changing of the seasons.Maybe one day he would forget everything, maybe after he had gone into the West.

Shivering Legolas wondered what Rothinzil would look like…stilled. He was always doing something obnoxious or humorous, Legolas did not think it was possible that one day his friend would never laugh again. Rothinzil was going to die after Helluin…unless he was murdered or something of the like…and Legolas knew he would not die of old age, but of a heart broken beyond repair. He did not want to see Rothinzil…crushed.

Legolas also had a hard time picturing Estel…dead, Hope, dead. It was a shocking thought that seamed impossible but he knew that one day it would happen. He would linger here as Aragorn drifted away and his life was changed forever. Aragorn was always doing something to make him laugh when he was feeling blue or being eager to learn and lend his aid where he could. He could not imagine this curious and joyful child, as he considered the man to be, lost to him. Legolas could not picture holding the cold hand of the body of the greatest man he had ever known.

Sleep stole over him, his weariness catching up with him and he drifted thankfully into nothingness. He was too fatigued for dreams and he doubted that they would be more than nightmares for the rest of his life.

>>>>>>>>

Glorfindel shifted Erestor in his arms and nearly jumped as the dark-haired Elf muttered, "its so dark. Dark, dark, dark, and cold, very cold." The counselor began to shiver and Glorfindel stopped, laying Erestor gently on the ground, taking care not to bump his friend's head.

Unclasping his cloak, he laid it on the ground. Smoothing it out and then he placed Erestor's now stilled body on top of it, wrapping him in its folds.

Jerking his head as he heard a harsh cry of an orc that had picked up their scent, Glorfindel picked up Erestor once more and pulled him close. The counselor cried out deliriously, "there are wargs loose in the woods. There are wargs loose in the woods!" Glorfindel knew to what Erestor was referring and it didn't make him feel any better.

Running on down the corridor he nearly slammed into Celebalda, Caranfëa, Shaalth and Elméra. "The orcs have broken through!" he stammered.

"We know, how are we going to get out? Where are all the men?" asked Caranfëa in a breath. Celebalda remained silent, holding Shaalth, who was passed out in his arms. Elméra looked nervously about.

Before Glorfindel could answer the red-haired Elf's question she blurted out in a choking voice, "where is Rothinzil?" Her bright eyes searched the darkness in a worried fashion and Glorfindel knew what she was thinking.

"He went with Legolas to get Estel. He will come back, I promise you. Knowing him he will just be late about doing it." Glorfindel winced and wished he had forced Rothinzil to come with him.

"Why didn't you stop him?" she asked sharply and spun around in the darkness as the orcs screams drew nearer and the screams of the men mingled with the cries of the foul creatures. "He could be dead!" she seethed.

"My Lady," said Glorfindel, "we must be going or be killed ourselves, come!" Caranfëa gripped her hand and pulled her after him.

The companions ran on until they came to the grate that barred their way past the entrance.

Glorfindel kicked it and growled, "Why was I this stupid? I knew we would never escape, but no, I had to light that false hope and…" the rest of his words were completely inaudible. Nobody dared to guess what he had said.

Caranfëa wrinkled his brow as he stared the grate down. It was rather bleak and foreboding now that he really looked at it. He could easily see how it had trapped the Elves and ranger in a state of panic but now that their heads were cleared, they may be able to find a way to lift it.

"I think we may be able to find a way to bring it up," muttered the redhead grimly. He glanced at Glorfindel who was nodding his head in thought.

"We might were we as strong as cave trolls," he said morbidly.

"If we don't we are going to get killed or worse," said Celebalda glumly. He looked at Shaalth's white face and said, "it is my responsibility to get my men to safety."

Caranfëa's glare deepened and he looked at the stone surrounding the entrance. Large rocks were along the door, and he saw a few places were they had slid free, making mounds of dust and small pebbles in their wake.

Going over, he kicked a large stone and after a few more kicks it broke free, creating a large sized hole. It was still not large enough for even him to make through. He kicked and many more stones fell out, sliding and clinking as they crumbled.

The hole was larger, and it would be a squeeze, but all of the Elves could eventually fit through it. He looked back and then slipped through it, he was free. But he wasn't going to leave without his father or his companions.

Glorfindel forced Elméra through next, knowing that she wouldn't leave if she wasn't forced. She would never willingly let Rothinzil do this on his own never knowing if he would return. She whispered back to the Gondolin Elf, "quickly, hand me Erestor."

The golden-haired Elf hesitated before carefully handing Erestor through to her. She gripped him and then set him in the sand of the cave floor a little further back. Glorfindel slithered through and then turned around took Shaalth from Celebalda.

Celebalda slithered through and they were all out.

Glorfindel looked at the entranceway and he gasped, "we are going to have to collapse it or be followed. We cannot allow the orcs to escape." He looked back at his friends and said, "Legolas, Estel and Rothinzil would have it no other way. We cannot get them, they are beyond our aid, our only hope is that they can find another way out."

Elméra shut her eyes and a sob shook her. She couldn't lose her beloved Rothinzil now. But she had to do this or let Erestor, Shaalth and the other Elves get cut down in the snow. What is, is what must be and she knew it. Either way she felt like she was committing a murder.

Going over with tears streaming down her face she helped them to kick the loose stones and collapse the tunnel entrance, dust turned to a thin layer of mud as it mixed with her tears. She was never going to see Rothinzil again and she felt like a dagger had been ran through her heart, shattering it. To her the pieces were never going to be mended unless he could relax in his strong arms, the arms of a warrior, again. They were such a comfort to her, knowing he would always protect her.

They could hear the screams of men as their own plans backfired on them and the orcs slaughtered them, ripping their corpses apart.

Celebalda wept as he thought of his warrior's bodies and the body of Thalionril in especial. He could not bear the thought that those foul creatures had marred it beyond recognition. It was enough to make him sick.

A loud rumble and the door to the mines came down in a puff of dust. Once the debris and dust settled all the companions looked upon it and sorrow and wonder. They were alive and had just sentenced their friends to death. It was a strange misery.

All were crying. Celebalda and Glorfindel gathered Erestor and Shaalth up and then all six departed, stumbling into the sunlight. It was blinding and they faltered, collapsing into the snow. Glorfindel clutched Erestor close to him and cried bitterly for the first time in a long time as he realized the fate of Estel, Legolas and Rothinzil.

Caranfëa stood on top of a snowdrift, looking towards the sun and blinking dumbly. He hadn't seen it in so long. It was beautiful and yet he would rather be in the dark, with Legolas, his prince, dying. Looking away from his friends and father, he let the tears slip down his dirty cheeks in tainted runnels, for the first time in years.

It seemed that in the end the friends were all robbed of the joys of freedom. It was bittersweet and had more bitterness than anything.

>>>>>>

Rothinzil sat in the dark, realizing that he was going to die here and that Legolas wouldn't live forever either. He felt tears bubbling up in his throat and behind his eyes. Legolas didn't deserve this. He didn't care about himself anymore, but he wished Legolas were free. He wished that he knew someone would be there to take care of Helluin.

He held Aragorn in his lap and murmured, "I am so sorry Estel, I couldn't save you or Legolas. We are going to die down here. The only good thing is we are beyond the orcs." And that actually was some comfort.

Suddenly, he heard a strange noise over head, like thunder but it wasn't that at all. It was the sound of many feet. The orcs must have found a way out. That was the only logical explanation.

A loud discord filled the air, like the screech of a Nazgul but he recognized it immediately by its far softer tone. Naneth! His horse was above them with possibly other horses. Hushing even his own breathing, the dark-haired being sat up straighter, listening as the horses danced above.

Suddenly, light mingled with snow filtered down and dirt with ice crashed down upon all the companions. A surprised shriek came from one of the horses, which hurriedly jerked its foot out of the small grotto it had found. Suddenly it stuck its nose, grey and soft down into the darkness of its discovery.

"Naneth! My darling horse, its Rothinzil," murmured Roth as the horse pressed her nose into his hair and even went so far as the lick and chew gently on the dark locks. He gently set Aragorn down and wedged himself out of the hole, using his shoulders to shove more dirt clear, enlarging it.

Nickering, the mare mouthed the Elf's ears and seemed to chide him for being gone so long. He pushed her face aside lovingly and then he went back down into the darkness to pull out Legolas -or wake him. He could pull himself out and help pull Aragorn up.

Gently tapping Legolas' shoulder he woke the blonde Elf quietly. Legolas glanced up and seeing the sunlight, he jerked up too quickly and bumped his head on the low dirt ceiling. Cursing under his breath, for he already possessed a seemingly lethal headache, the prince inquired with surprise lacing his weak voice alongside a pinch of gratitude mingled with awe, "how did you do it, Roth? You are truly a marvel!"

The dark haired Elf smiled as he teased, "so I have been told." Sighing he muttered, "and watch your head. One unconscious person is enough!"

Legolas glared and then crawling over peeked his head through the hole, letting the sunlight fall upon his face, warming it. He closed his eyes, ready to bath in the long lost and loved light. Ignoring Rothinzil's cries from below to get his head down, the prince continued to bask in his new found freedom. But a sharp nudge in the back of his head jolted him out of his dream land and he felt hot air being snorted down his neck.

Turning around he saw his dapple horse staring him in the face. "Hello old girl," he said soothingly. "Did you miss me then?" He raised his brows and actually laughed as the mare nibbled extremely delicately on his ear.

Pulling himself out, the blonde Elf turned back down and called, "hand me up Estel!"

Roth narrowed his eyes, suspecting Legolas was not half as strong as he thought he was and wouldn't be able to bear Estel. But he wasn't about to argue.

Carefully gathering the passed out man in his arms, he tenderly handed him up to Legolas who received him with as much care as though he held a tiny butterfly.

Staring down into the face of Aragorn as Rothinzil climbed out, Legolas said, "you can wake up now. Please. We are free. We escaped. The sunlight is shining down on us and she is glad. Please wake, my friend." His hands trembled as he checked Aragorn's neck for any sign of even a weak pulse.

Roth placed his hands on Legolas' shoulders and murmured gently, "Mandos does no more than his appointed task, Legolas. Aragorn will be well," he finished as he realized the prince could not detect a pulse.

He watched as Legolas' blue eyes glazed over as though a misty veil was drawn over them and the Elf collapsed into the snow. Rolling him over, Rothinzil saw the face of his friend and liege was very pale. He was begging with fate that Legolas had not just died.

Shaking like a leaf, he felt for a pulse and felt one, to his astonished joy. "Legolas, we are all three going to be fine. We will be found." He felt his own wound hurting and his own weariness catching up finally as his adrenaline died away.

He knelt in the snow and realizing Legolas was without a tunic, he took off the cloak stolen by Helluin for him and laid it on the frosty ground before rolling Legolas up in it. Then, his strength gave out and he slipped into darkness, falling across Legolas' resting body.

**TBC……..Well now, -glances over chapter-. Is that an evil cliffy? Yummy. Nothing like an evil cliffy. They can really make your day... ur -our day. LOL **

**Please review and tell us what you think, as this is the second to last chapter. Aragorn fans, don't give up. Next story is a little more biased towards the ranger, called Estel. :) **

**Review Responses:) Thank you for each and everyone of these. **

**Leela 74: **We are making you like Legolas? Wow! Well, the next story may be more to your liking if you remain a sucker for ranger pain. Aww…thanks. We really try to bring out the character of the characters. –that sentence sounds so strange-. As they saw, practice makes perfect. Ummm…very interesting family tree. So you might be moving over here? Do you have any idea where yet? Thanks for the inspiring review.

**Linuvial Greenleaf: **Hey, nice to see you back. You are still one of our favs! Kickboxing, eh? Wow! That's awesome. Hope it is going well. Yes, well, not too much Estel angst in this one, but fear not, our next story strongly focuses on him and it has lots of graphic violence. :) Wow! That sentence was that good, huh? Thank you so much. Wow! We feel honored, really. Thanks for that very wonderful and encouraging review.

**Deana: **Yes! Thank God indeed!However, they managed to find trouble…again! Thanks for the kind review.

**lil Cwick:** You flatter us! But thanks so much for the sweet review!

**Marie Delcore:** We are not mean! We resent that very much mellon nin! LOL Erestor had already lost his mind. Hehehehehehe. At least, so one would think. Shallth liked it, we swear he asked us to torture him. Thanks for the review mellon nin.

**elitenschwein:**Oh we agree, totally satisfying, he deserved to die. No, mobs with pointy objects are not on our want-to-show-up-on-on-doorstep-list. However a certain Elf and ranger are. Hmmmm...yes, he may or may not be in this chapter too much, but we felt this chapter was a bit too brief. Yup, next story will be much more even. Thanks for the review.

**Sindauviel:** Elvish for something along the lines of Grey Bird? Very nice, really. It has a nice ring to it. What a question. Well, he might be okay, might. That is if our evil side submits, which it probably won't. Thanks for the review.

**Shadowfox8:** Hehehehe, okay sure, we would love to check out your story as soon as we get a spare moment. Why not? 'Dark Rose' sounds like an awesome title. Thanks for the review.


	25. A Long Road

**This chapter is dedicated to Leela74 for her seventeenth Birthday. Happy Birthday Leela! **_authors huggle Leela_

_**Aa' lasser ne lle coia orn n' omenta gurtha! **May the leaves of your life's tree never turn brown!_**(Gray Company Language) Enjoy. **

**>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>**

_**CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE **_

_A Long Road _

Glorfindel had figured one thing out in these past few days, which had been rather tense as a rule. He had learned that no matter how much you paced a room in any direction, it never changed anything and floor boards didn't wear down to nothing, at least not yet.

"Erestor, you are going to lose the bet," whined Glorfindel. He looked at the pale, shirtless Elf-lord that was lying on the bed in a deep sleep. He was clean now and if Glorfindel didn't know he was alive, he would say it looked like Erestor was ready to undergo embalming for his tomb.

Going over he clasped one of Erestor's hands. "Its warm," he said. "You can come back."

Erestor didn't even draw a deeper breath. He looked even further away.

Glorfindel got up and decided another round of pacing might calm his nerves. He was about ready to ask to be drugged…or perhaps killed. "You are an idiot, obnoxious twit, dull minded, devious hearted, heart attack inciting 'counselor' and…my _best_ friend!" he cried towards the heavens. "What did I do to deserve this?"

"I don't know," a soft voice said. "Tormented me for half my life…"

"Who knows what they did to you Erestor!" wailed Glorfindel as he paced some more. "I should have stopped them…"

He quickly dodged a chair but banged into the corner of a table. Without stopped or going around he pushed around it and kept walking then turned back around when his toes touched the wall.

"That would have been nice…" said the other quietly.

"I am such a horrible guard! I deserve to lose the bet and wear pink!" he admitted to the air. Tears formed in his eyes and he let them fall. He had really messed up this time.

"You are, but that's beside the point….I think pink would bring out your eyes…"

"Erestor, if you would only wake up I would do anything, anything! You can't leave me alone with Ancú and the twins! And Estel! ERU! Do not forget Estel!" Then he laughed madly and moaned, "what about Elrond! Illuvater, he will slay me!"

"I think I might help him…" came the voice with a snicker weaved in it. Glorfindel turned around to look at his friend's forlorn body. But what he saw was a very pale and hardly alive counselor staring up at him with tired gray eyes.

"Erestor!" he cried and then he glared and said, "why didn't you tell me you were awake!" he asked in a growl.

"I tried, you didn't listen. Isn't my fault you are half-deaf," teased the raven-haired Elf around his pain. He winced as he wound caused a tremor of pain to shoot through his awareness. Glorfindel noticed his eyes glaze over and he as immediately at the dark-haired Elf's side.

"It's your wound, isn't it?" he asked mournfully. His moist blue eyes were narrowed and Erestor shut his own against the pain and the ill feeling he had. Glorfindel grabbed a cup of water from the nightstand and held the porcelain rim to the other's parched lips.

Erestor instantly opened his eyes and he tried to shrink away into the pillows. His face became fearful and he whispered, "I won't take anymore…never." He choked in terror and bit his lower lip so hard that Glorfindel gapped as he saw blood seep out in a single scarlet bead set against the grey-blue lips.

Glorfindel placed his hand on Erestor's perspiration damped brow and felt the dark-haired Elf spiking an ugly fever. Erestor twisted his head away and he whispered, "is so cold, cold…"

The change had been so sudden that Glorfindel was in shock. Erestor writhed on the bed and Glorfindel hastily pulled another quilt over his friend. The counselor opened his eyes and they were large with fear or pain, Glorfindel didn't know which until the ill Elf spoke. "Glorfindel, help me. I am sliding back into darkness."

Glorfindel held his hand tightly and whispered, "you will be fine, I think. But you need to flush this venom out of your system, my friend." He placed the water by Erestor's lips again and the adviser looked at it with unsure eyes and he had every reason to. He had been poisoned. Glorfindel as sure if he had been poisoned by being forced to swallow some vile brew then he would never drink a thing again.

Pulling the cup to his mouth the Gondolin Elf took a sip and said, "see? Its fine." He smiled and Erestor nodded as the water was offered again.

The raven-haired Elf-lord drew a slow sip and then he sighed contentedly. "You have no idea how good that tastes." Glorfindel felt his broken smile broaden and Erestor began to take gulps, long and drawn out. Frowning now, the golden-haired Elf pulled the cup away.

"You will make yourself throw up," he cautioned. Erestor gave him an angry glare. His grey eyes, though tired became contemptuous slits of withheld rage.

"Lord Glorfindel," he began thickly give me the cup-" suddenly his face went grey to white to red and then to white again in the remarkable span of a few seconds. He was going to retch. Feeling the vomit rising in the back of his throat, he looked to Glorfindel for help.

"Oh blessed Manwë!", said Glorfindel hurriedly and he grabbed a pan nearby that had been placed there for him when he was so anxiety filled he actually had started to throw up several times but never really gone through with it.

Erestor sat up and leaned over the edge of the bed groggily. Glorfindel came and put the pan below on the floor so that he could eject the contents of his stomach. Shivering, Erestor waited impatiently for the vomit to reach its peak and be expelled. His hair hung limply in his face and Glorfindel sat down behind his friend and pulled the ebony locks back like a mother would for a sick child.

Erestor breathed heavily in dread and pain and whispered, "Glorfindel-" suddenly he heaved and Glorfindel grimaced in disgust as he heard the barf hit the metal of the pan with a disgusting splatter. Patting Erestor's back to help everything come up and to comfort him, Glorfindel tried to think of happier things than illness and poison not mention mangling the body of Erestor's tormentor.

A moment later Erestor panted and then he retched once more. He was coughing and his wound convulsed torturously. Shivering violently, the counselor whispered, "I think that's all." Glorfindel let his hair loose and helped lower his friend back onto the bed slowly.

Once Erestor was lying on the bed again Glorfindel said, "I think I should like to see your wound." The dark-haired Elf muttered something that was utterly beyond one's range and so Glorfindel proceeded to remove the blankets and sheets that covered Erestor's abdomen.

The counselor quivered some more and when Glorfindel began to unwrap the bandage he jerked and hissed, "any chance your hands could be warmer?"

Glorfindel smiled wryly. "You're acting like Legolas or Estel." He went ahead and removed the swathe. The sight was enough to make Glorfindel want to vomit himself. Blood still was fresh on the wound and it obviously wasn't healing.

Erestor grimaced and plead, "it really hurts so _please_ be careful." His grey eyes conveyed mortal pain and the golden-haired Elf-lord stopped examining the wound and looked into Erestor's face. To hear the proud Erestor begging was alarming but if Erestor was in that much pain Glorfindel was going to do what he could to relieve him.

"I am sorry Erestor, so sorry. If I had been there with you…" He choked off and diverted his eyes back to the wound. "Never mind."

Erestor smiled grimly through his agony. "I know you would have done everything in your power to prevent it."

Glorfindel didn't answer and he pressed around the wound's edges carefully scrutinizing for fever or other various infection signs. The edges of the wound were red and definitely inflamed. As he felt them he realized they were slightly hot to the touch.

Erestor winced and asked dryly, "are you almost finished?" His eyes looked at the ceiling as he grit his teeth to keep from crying out. It was almost too much to bear and he wondered how Legolas and Estel handled this all the time. They were surely insane, he saw with painful clarity.

Glorfindel shook his head. "I am going to bath it in cold Athelas water. It will burn, but it will ease the pain and cleanse the wound gradually."

How did Legolas and Aragorn do to survive this kind of treatment?

Erestor's eyes were closed and he murmured, "just do what you have to." His breathing hitched for a moment and Glorfindel feared he as leaving, but then Erestor drew another breath.

Glorfindel left for a moment, striding down the hall quickly, ignoring the strange looks he gathered from the young girl healers. They stared at each other in amazement and awe, wondering where he was going.

Minutes later, when Glorfindel reentered the room he found Erestor lying on the floor and his shoulders were shaking and his black hair hid his face but Glorfindel could hear sobs. He had never heard Erestor cry before save once. It was a frightening situation and he stopped short, watching as his friend wept on the floor.

"Lord Erestor?" he inquired in a quavering voice. His hands holding the Athelas powder and the water pitcher shook.

"Glorfindel, I am sorry," he said softly. "I didn't intend for you to find me thus." Erestor intentionally made sure that his face was hidden from view as he peered through his black strands of hair and Glorfindel crouched at his side.

Gently placing a hand on the ebony-haired Elf's shaking shoulder he commanded calmly, "look me in the eye and tell me what happened."

Erestor shook his head. Glorfindel didn't need to see his face, his shame filled eyes. He said thickly, "just help me up."

"Not until you tell me what happened."

Erestor sobbed and said, "I can't…I mean…I can't remember…remember how to…." He couldn't say it. It as too humiliating and it made him feel so weak. "I can't remember how to walk," he said quickly before he changed his mind about daring to admit the frightening fact.

Glorfindel was stunned. Apparently this poison hadn't done all its evil work but it had done enough. He said nothing and Erestor continued, "I tried and tried, but I fell and fell and I can't get back up again."

Glorfindel didn't know what to say and so he pulled his hurting friend close after setting his burdens down, regardless of the blood that got on his clothes. Wrapping his arms around Erestor's shaking shoulders, he comforted his frightened friend in a tight hug.

Erestor pressed his face into Glorfindel's tunic and the Gondolin Elf felt the moisture of the tears soak through. Patting Erestor's back reassuringly, he said, "the Elf-lord I knew would look at this in a defiant light."

Erestor mumbled into the tunic, "well things have obviously changed." His bitter response was too have been expected.

Erestor's body began to feel very cold and he was trembling more from cold than pain now. Glorfindel frowned, "you are going to get even more ill from that venom if you don't get back in bed."

Carefully he placed his arm under Erestor's knees and another around his shoulders. Erestor gasped as he was lifted from the ground. Looking up at Glorfindel's face he stammered, "put me down!"

Trying to keep a lurking smile away Glorfindel finally failed and he grinned. "If you can't walk, I will carry you." Erestor tried his best to scowl and act angry but he smiled.

"Glorfindel, I am glad you are my friend." The dark-haired Elf smiled and then suddenly he sighed wearily. Wrinkling his normally smooth forehead, the counselor said in a sorrowful voice. "I am sorry for needing you to carry me."

"Well it is slightly inconvenient..." teased the Balrog-Slayer with an impish grin. Seeing Erestor's dismay he added quickly, "but I really wouldn't have it any other way. If you can't walk, it is my responsibility as a friend to do what I can for you. Anyway, you hardly weigh a thing."

As Erestor felt the warm sheets touching his bare shoulders he relaxed and said, "when you are finished bathing my wound, would you please get me something hot to eat and then after that I want a back massage and to be fed peeled grapes one by one…"

Glorfindel picked up the disregarded pitcher and the Athelas powder. "Now you are making fun of me," he whined with a snicker.

Erestor sighed in mock exasperation, "well I certainly hope so, you are more boring than watching paint dry." He frowned and then said, "seriously, it is getting dull in here and if at all possible, could you take me out and let me get some fresh air? After I get some liquid, like hot broth, into me, of course."

Glorfindel smirked and asked as he placed the wet cloth against Erestor's stomach wound, "some chicken noodle soup sound appetizing?" The adviser smiled in dismembered fragments of tranquillity around grit teeth and a clenched jaw.

Caranfëa looked up at his father as he lay on a bed of the healing ward. His wrist was splinted and bound tightly in hopes it would heal straight in time. His red-hair spread out over the pillows. "Ada?" he asked softly. Celebalda smiled down brightly and frowned as Caranfëa asked, "how is Aredhel? What ahs changed since I have been away?"

"She is in love, but she will need all her strength to pull through," he finished sadly and looked at his feet. Silver tears came to his eyes. His heart was broken. His blinked and Caranfëa looked on anxiously, his red eyebrows awry.

"What has befallen her?" he asked. "If something evil has harmed her or cast a spell on her I would have you tell me." He loved his sister dearly and he would make whoever harmed her pay.

"There is nothing you can do. One of the Elves that came with me, Thalionril, was her fiancé. He was murdered by Calmir, whom Elméra killed." He touched his son's broken wrist tenderly. "You will mend well," he said tensely.

The father and son had grown so far apart and gone through so many different things they found they had nothing in common anymore save their attitudes; stubborn and overly proud at times.

"I knew Calmir, he was always insanely cruel. But he was her brother," informed the little red-haired Elf quietly as he gazed up at the ceiling with his bright green eyes. "Will Shaalth heal well?"

"He will, but he will never be the same," answered Celebalda softly.

"I have missed you so much Ada," whispered Caranfëa.

"I have missed you too son," Celebalda smiled down. He then leaned down and kissed Caranfëa's forehead. "Get some sleep and heal from your burdens, my son. I will come and check on you later." He didn't have to say it twice. Caranfëa's eyelids fluttered and he was already off into peaceful dreams such, as he had not experienced in many years.

For once he was safe. Nobody was threatening him or harming him. He was not in hiding, far from home in a cold, dank, dark place. He was lying in a soft featherbed with his father watching over him.

Celebalda watched as the care faded from his son's fair face. He got up to leave and as he left he whispered, "I am so glad to have found you at last. My little Hell Fire of an Elfling."

_**"Hearts will never be practical until they can be made unbreakable."**_

_**------Wizard of Oz ;) **_

Legolas opened up a set of bleary eyes and looked about him. He was lying on something soft, springy and rather comfortable now that he realized it was a feather down mattress. Relaxing gladly into the soft blankets and pillows, the Elf looked lazily up at the ceiling beams, wondering where he was.

However, he didn't really care, it was safe. It felt good to not be watching his back and just relax into laziness. He heard a snort and looked over to see Rothinzil, propped up in his bed, a wooden pipe in his hand and smoke billowing about his head.

"Roth!" hissed Legolas in surprise. "That is a filthy habit, you know."

"Legolas!" gasped Roth as he stammered. "I thought you were still asleep."

"I was until a few seconds ago," glared the prince. "For the Valar's sake! Put that pipe away!" he chided tersely. Then he mumbled in annoyance, "who ever heard of a smoking Elf!" Shaking his head, he smiled at his friend warmly.

"Sorry, an old habit from my time with men," explained Roth shamefully as he tucked the pipe under the bed's edge. "If Helluin knew, she would kill me."

"You never cease to amaze me Rothinzil," declared Legolas with a small chuckle. He then furrowed his brows and asked seriously, "how did we get here? All I can remember is pain and weariness and snow…" He tried in vain to bring his memory to their arrival.

Roth frowned and then said, "I managed to weasel that much out of Helluin before she drugged me into a stupor."

"We were seen by Caranfëa, for he saw the horses dancing around us and then we were brought here, to Farlost to heal."

Legolas scowled, "well that sure explains a lot." His voice changed to one of alarm as he felt panic and fear spiking up in his heart. "Where is Estel?"

"Beside you. He has yet to wake," replied Rothinzil sadly. His hazel eyes seemed to droop in sorrow and uncertainty.

Legolas looked over at Aragorn who lay in the same bed beside him.

The young ranger's face was pale and appeared lifeless except for the faint rising and falling of his chest, one would have never guessed he lived. Even his lips were pale and his face was drawn in what could be pain. Dark circles wreathed his eyes ominously. It was then that Legolas saw his youth revealed. It was a sad reminder that Aragorn was no more than a boy really.

Feeling his heart wrench, Legolas looked at Rothinzil, who was looking away. "She said he would wake up, Legolas," murmured the dark-haired Elf assuredly.

"Ah," said the prince. "And who might _she_ be?"

"Helluin," came the curt reply.

"I might have known you would commit the greatest treason and marry one of the breed classified under the name 'healer'!" muttered Legolas as he looked with slight laughter in his eyes towards his friend.

Rothinzil felt himself getting hot and kicked off a blanket and then another when he still wasn't satisfied. His nightshirt had ridden up his chest some and Legolas saw the stitches on the long laceration he had received thanks to Calmir.

"Rothinzil!" scolded Legolas.

"It is nearly healed. Legolas, you need to go back to sleep. You and Aragorn need your rest as does everybody else," Roth argued. "Now shut your eyes…"

"Roth-" began Legolas.

"I am seriously going to ask Helluin to sedate you into the next age!" warned the other, interrupting. He began to pull the blankets back up to act as a shield against Legolas' wrath.

"I am the prince. I command you to silence!" growled Legolas in a jesting way. His blue eyes glowed with mirth. But he was feeling tired and that was disturbing.

A quiet voice muttered to his left, "good call Legolas, now if you don't mind, I am trying to sleep!"

Looking at Aragorn in astonishment, Legolas bit his lower lip to keep from scolding the ranger out of hand. Instead, he resembled a healer who had just realized he was treating a snake. "Trying to sleep? TRYING TO SLEEP? We thought you were dying!" he seethed.

"I guess I am well…" he started.

Legolas interrupted. "You were bitten by the snakes! I thought they were lethal!"

"They are…"

Legolas cut him off again. "Then how are you alive? If you were joking around ranger it wasn't amusing in the least. Wait until your brothers here about this!"

"Legolas…" Rothinzil tried to talk to his liege.

"Not now Roth! Now can either of you tell me how it is that he is not dead and we are all very much alive?" altercated Legolas without the slightest sign of relenting in this age.

"Legolas!" tried Rothinzil again, as he raised his head off his pillows long enough to glare at his rambling friend who was acting like he had never spoke. Lowering his head down again he rolled his eyes with annoyance. Stupid princling! He would teach him!

"I mean unless you are made of the antidote those snakes are lethal-" smack!

Legolas blinked a moment, his weary mind unraveling what had just happened. He had been beamed in the face by a pillow lobbed at him from Rothinzil who was glaring daggers of an irate demeanor.

"Legolas, I have been trying to tell you now for this past minute and a half you have been rambling!" explained Rothinzil as he picked his spare pillow off the floor and tossed it back onto his own bed before turning his annoyed expression back onto Legolas.

"Helluin weaseled an example of that herb from Master Ryxen, the one Aragorn was poisoned by before. It is the antidote. So literally speaking he _is_ made of the stuff," explained the other wood-Elf wearily.

Aragorn looked form Legolas to Rothinzil with raised eyebrows in a nervous and amused fashion and a smile lurked in the corners of his mouth. Closing his eyes he mumbled or more accurately half yawned, "you Wood-Elves are insane…positively crazed."

He chuckled before falling into a light sleep and rolling over to his side, his back to the Elves, and muttered, "now quiet down before we are drugged into a waking stupor because of your loud mouths."

Smiling, Legolas relaxed back into his portion of the bed that they shared in the small room. He found it unfair Rothinzil had gotten his own. No -he found it _highly_ unfair. Laughing inside, he thought of the revenge that was going to have to be placed in order.

Then he remembered something.

Rothinzil was _mortal. _

Legolas suddenly spoke and said, "I hope you can look me in the eye and tell me that you are happy now!"

"What?" asked Rothinzil as he looked at his friend with genuine confusion written all over his features.

"Do you not realize you are not going to live forever! You remember how we always used to talk about the Havens and going together? Building our own ship and leaving at the end of the world?" asked Legolas anxiously. "We know each other inside out!" he seethed astringently.

"Legolas, please don't be angry. I can't help it…" plead Rothinzil, avoiding the question that cut him deeply, like a Morgul knife. "I need your support. I am so afraid." His voice sounded like lost whimpering puppy and Legolas felt his heart melt. Rothinzil was still a child at heart.

"You know I'm not," came the response. "But you threw everything away. Nothing is the same. I can't protect you."

"Legolas…." Roth went quiet and then he said. "You will go to the West some day…I know you will. I have a gift for you."

Legolas sighed and said, "Rothinzil, nothing is going to heal the wound you have created! Did you think about me when you made your decision?"

"I am sorry. But in a way I did. See, when you go into the West, someday, when everything in Middle Earth fails you, then you may take with you any friend you want." Roth sighed heavily as though it hurt him to say what he was saying. "They can have my place."

"Anyone…say a dwarf?" asked Legolas, questioning the genuineness of the proposal. He highly doubted he would ever become that close with a dwarf. It would be the dwarves that would drive him to the West!

"I said anybody," came the terse reply.

"Roth, I am going to miss you."

Rothinzil smiled in the dark and said, "I know. I will miss you too."

Roth rose up and he tugged his bed over so it touched Legolas'. The beds in the healing ward were surprisingly light, made so that they could be shifted easily to new positions. Getting back in bed, he placed his hand over one of Legolas' before drifting off to sleep.

Legolas waited until his dark-haired friend's breathing was even. He watched Rothinzil's peaceful face and he felt hot tears choking him. That was his best friend! Right there! But soon, another century, and Roth would be dead. He felt something in his chest break and knew his heart had just shattered.

He was going to lose every close friend he had.

Aragorn murmured sleepily beside him, "Legolas, you had to let him go. He isn't the first and he won't be the last." There was a pause and Aragorn said, "I think that someday, when the world is changed, you will see him again."

Legolas smiled as hot tears ran down his cheek and he said, "you know not what a comfort you are to me, Estel."

He stared at the ceiling, wondering fi he could endure this. If Elves could die of a broken heart, he was well on his way.

The door opened and in came Helluin. She stopped short and going over to where Legolas lay she sat on the edge of the bed and reached over Rothinzil's still form to touch Legolas' shaking arm. "Legolas…"

"Helluin," he answered softly as he swallowed back a lump made of tears and congested sorrow.

"Legolas, I know this is hard for you," she began calmly, searching for the right words to say to an Elf who had lost his best friend…because of her.

"You have know idea," he mumbled in a voice that was near a sob.

"I will take good care of him. I promise you," she covenanted quietly.

There was an eerie silence and then Legolas said, " no, he is a warrior. He will look after you."

"You probably hate me," Helluin said sadly. She eyed Legolas as though he might suddenly attack her and as though she deserved to be loathed and rebuked. Keeping her eyes then to the bed spread, she began to pick at the threads as nonchalantly as possible.

"No, I do not. It isn't your fault. Fate wielded it this way. But I will tell you this. Don't you ever leave him or I will ensure you pay…dearly," threatened Legolas flatly. He swirled his blue eyes to look at her.

She smiled down at Rothinzil and said softly, "until death do we part."

Legolas smiled now and drew a hand across his face to wipe away his tears and heartache, "then My Lady, he has the greatest Daughter of Men to give his life up for." Frowning, he inquired quietly, "what day is it?"

"It is the New Year, Prince Legolas."

**THE END! **

**Yup, sort of a bittersweet ending, huh? And wow! Glorfindel and Erestor understand one another! What in all Arda happened there? Hehehehe, Yes, Rothinzil is no longer immortal, but that won't stop him from continuing to have wild adventures! LOL Not as long as he has Legolas to egg him on. **

**Thanks for the reviews for our last chapter, please keep them coming. Yes, poor Rothinzil and Legolas. We agree, a lot of talking to come in the future. What? Only one of you apparently knows of Watership Down? Oh-well. Cookies for you Ragweed. :) **

**How will Erestor be healed? Will he be healed? **

Of course he will get healed. Elrond is a very skilled and capable herbalist/therapist. However, it will be interesting to see him try and give Erestor therapy. _Authors chuckle_But we are getting ahead of ourselves. Another fic, another time

Below is the preview for our next angsty/lengthy fic.

**Title **

_Masquerade _

**Authors**

Celebdil-Galad and Tinlaure

**Summary **

Captured as prisoners of war by the Haradrim, Legolas and Aragorn are tortured ruthlessly at the hands of their host. If things go as planned there will be no dawn for either Elf or ranger, but first one must break.

Though more than their lives and spirits are at stake, an ancient bond could be shattered and all Middle Earth could be condemned. But there are secrets that must be uncovered at great peril if they are so save all Middle Earth. The fates of many, rest squarely on the shoulders of Legolas and Aragorn, will they give under the pressure?

**Rated**

PG-13

**_Please do not forget to review. So long until our next story. Coming in February. _**


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